


Things We Shouldn't Do

by Willaphyx



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Celebrity, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, with a small helping of social media AU thrown in for flavor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-07
Updated: 2018-01-16
Packaged: 2018-07-12 13:37:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 92,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7107103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Willaphyx/pseuds/Willaphyx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“The history between the two of you is well known,” Marcus went on, talking over Clarke’s continued splutters.  “And it hasn’t escaped the notice of certain news organizations--”<br/>“What, you mean fucking TMZ?” Clarke interjected.Marcus sighed.  “It would be in the best interest of the show and I think both your careers if you were to be seen as a couple.<br/>”Silence.“A dating couple,” Marcus added as if that hadn’t been clear.<br/>Bellamy and Clarke exploded simultaneously.“If we what?” Clarke demanded at the same time that Bellamy just started laughing.  He slipped sideways, dangerously close to falling out of his chair.<br/>----<br/>Clarke is at the bottom of a downward spiral and Bellamy is riding an all-time career high when they’re cast as the leads of Marcus Kane’s newest drama.  The entertainment world expects a blowup of immense proportions between the two feuding actors but get a hard to explain romance instead.  Or: a fake dating celebrities AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was loosely inspired by One Direction's "Perfect" and I've been itching to write it since I first thought up the premise a few months ago. No playlist for this one, but if you're looking for music to listen to while you read I'd suggest: Accidentally in Love (Counting Crows), Kiss n’ Tell (Danger Radio), We Are Young (Fun.), Perfect (One Direction), 22 (Taylor Swift), You Make Me Feel (Cobra Starship), This Town (O.A.R.), Shut up and Dance (Walk the Moon), Die Young (Ke$ha)

Clarke flipped the script shut and pushed it away across the table.  “No,” she said.  “No fucking way.”

Anya sighed and pushed the script back.  “Clarke.”

“I’m not doing it.”

“This project could be really good for you.”

Clarke raised an eyebrow and looked between the stack of papers and her agent.  “Uh huh.”

Anya swallowed and looked down.   _Gen Super,_ it trumpeted.   _Pilot.  Written by Marcus Kane._  “I know it’s not...ideal.”

“It’s not even fucking close to ideal, it’s motherfucking _absurd_.”

Anya held out a hand.  “Give me a dollar.”

“I am not giving you a dollar.”

“Swear jar, Clarke, we had a deal.  I told you--”

“That if we were going to keep working together I had to keep the profanity to a minimum, yeah, yeah, whatever.”  She dug her wallet out and pulled out a bill.  “I feel like the fact that I’m ridiculously broke should mean I we can put that on hold.”

Anya’s eyebrow arched in a way that Clarke was desperately jealous of.  “What,” she drawled, “you want to start a tab?”

“No.”

“Then pay up.  Also may I remind you that it’s _your_ fault that you’re ‘ridiculously broke.’”  She stabs the script with a finger.  “Thus why this thing is necessary.”

“You agree that it’s dumb as fu--” She stopped.  “As _hell_.”

“Well, obviously.  But we’re not looking for Emmy-winning material right now, Clarke, and you know that.  After your...breakdown, we need to get you onto a project.  Otherwise everyone’s going to think ‘disastrous trainwreck lesbian’ everytime they hear your name.”

“I’m not even a lesbian!”

“Yes, Clarke, I know.  Please, please, please, will you just go to the audition?”

Clarke chewed her lip.

“You know how well Marcus’ name is respected in this town.  This is going to get picked up.  And you’re going to be the lead.”

“Do we know who the male lead is?”

Anya shook her head.  “They’ve only done supporting casting.  A few members of the main cast but no one significant.”  She pulled out a folder and rifled through it.  “They’ve got...John Murphy, Jasper Jordan, apparently, don’t know how that happened, and uhhh...they’re in talks with Raven Reyes.”  Anya’s eyes flicked up to hers.  “You like Raven.”

Clarke groaned and fell back in her chair.  “Fine, you win, I’ll go to the damn audition.”

Anya grinned and snapped her folder shut.  “Good girl, Clarke.  I’ll see you at nine AM.”

 

TVLine.com @TVLine

@MarcusKane’s #GenSuper adds @cgriffs as leading lady, flirts with a series order at the CW.

 

Amandaaaaa @amandajane

@TVLine finally something that might get me back into the cw, if only to watch griffin crash and burn again lolll

 

“They’re talking about you,” Anya said a week after Clarke’s casting was announced.

Clarke glared at her over her bowl of Lucky Charms.  “They’re all calling me a lunatic.  And those are the nice ones.”

“No press is bad press.”  Anya paused.  “At least not in your situation.  It’s reminding people that you’re still here and you’re still working.”

“Don’t date supermodels, kids,” Clarke deadpanned at the table, “they’ll chew you up and spit you right back out.”

“Well, anyway,” Anya said after a brief pause.  “We’re back in business.  Kane’s at the CW’s offices today, they’re talking about picking it up.”

Clarke stared at her.  “For real?  A straight to season order?”

“ _Talking_ about it,” Anya reminded her.  “And nothing’s going to happen until they get you a costar.”

Clarke took another bite of cereal.  “How’s that going?”

“Apparently there’s a short list.  They haven’t released it yet but they’re narrowing it down.  I’d expect an announcement in the next couple days.”

“Cool.”

“You’re getting lunch with Raven today, right?”

Clarke nodded.

“Good.  Make sure someone gets pictures.”

Clarke rolled her eyes.  “Yes, Anya.”

Anya glared at her.  “I’m your manager, Clarke, not your friend.”  She slung her bag over her shoulder and snagged her keys off the counter.  “Make sure you brush your hair.”

“For God’s sake,” Clarke groaned.

 

Raven Reyes had been one of Clarke’s first friends in the industry.  They’d met at an open casting call for “pretty girl #4” for a shitty independent film that had flopped on the festival circuit.  Neither of them got the part but they managed to grow a semi-decent friendship out of it.

Raven was already sitting at the table when Clarke got there, scrolling through something on her phone and frowning but she grinned when she saw Clarke, standing up for a hug.

“Clarke, babe!  It’s so good to see you!”

Raven’s enthusiasm had always been contagious.  Clarke couldn’t help but grin back.

“You, too!  I saw _Wrong Turn_ , it was great.”

Raven beamed.  “A completely unnecessary compliment, but flattery will get you everywhere.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“Not that they’ve been saying anything nice about you lately.”

Clarke grimaced.  “I’ve seen worse.”

Raven studied her face.  “At least you’re getting back into the game.  And with a leading role, too.  Cheers to that, babe.”

“Kane’s had a soft spot for me since that weird fling he had with my mom and you know it,” Clarke admonished.

Raven shrugged.  “A leading role’s a leading role.  And I’ve heard they’ve got some big names on your list of possible costars.”

Clarke leaned across the table.  “Like who?”

“That I don’t know, they’re keeping it pretty tight under wraps.”

Clarke sat back, disappointed.  “Damn.  Anya told me there’d be an announcement soon.”

Raven’s grin was slow and wide.  “You’re still working with Anya?  How’s she doing?”

“Crazy as ever.  She’s forced me into this bullshit swear jar business.”

“Like you don’t pay her enough already,” Raven said.

“Hey, she didn’t dump me after the Lexa fiasco, I owe her.”

“True.”  She paused.  “How are you doing with all that?”

“Oh, you mean Lexa and her new foreign chew toy parading all over New York Fashion Week a few months ago?  Yeah, I’m great.”

“Clarke.”

“Really.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Seriously, Raven, I’m _fine_.  I dumped her, remember?”

Raven rolled her eyes.  “No, she said she wanted to take a break, you lost it, threw a bunch of shit in a restaurant, and told her you were done before stomping out with spaghetti all down your front.”  She sucked in a breath.  “Sorry, that was a little harsh.”

Clarke bit her lip.  “All true, though.  I did do all of that.”

“Again, _are you okay_.”

“Pretty soon I’m going to have a super hot costar to hang all over in promo pictures.  She’s going to be the jealous one.”

Raven raised her glass.  “That’s the spirit, babe.  And hey,” she added, leaning in conspiratorially.  “I’m always down to make the bitch jealous.”

Clarke grinned.  “You’re still not over that time she spilled wine all over you at that afterparty are you?”

“Never,” Raven vowed.  “I don’t care how many times she apologized, that was a _calculated_ move.”

“You know she thought I was cheating on her with you right?”

Raven choked on her next bite.  “What?” she wheezed.

“Yeah, she was real fucking insecure about it.”

“Everything makes about nine hundred times more sense now.”

Clarke laughed.

“I mean I am pretty hot.”

“And yet not into girls.”

“Sadly.”

“Any prospects of the male variety?”

Raven rolled her eyes.  “Again, sadly no.”

“I think you’re lying to me.”

“I would never.”  But there was a small smile playing around her lips.

“Don’t hold out on my like that.”

Raven fought back her smile.  “Okay, fine.”

Clarke grinned and leaned in closer.

 

Marcus Kane @MarcusKane

Beyond thrilled to welcome @bellblake to the cast of #GenSuper as our male lead!  You guys are going to love it!

 

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” Clarke moaned into her pillow.

It was a testament to Anya’s humanity that she didn’t ask for a dollar or yell at Clarke for potentially drooling all over her throw pillows.

Anya’s apartment was decorated in what could be called a minimalist style, which in Anya’s case meant she was basically never there and had never bothered to buy anything other than the necessary furniture so she didn’t eat and sleep on the ground.  The only things she did splurge on were excessively nice throw pillows for her couch that hurt Clarke’s face.  But if Clarke had to look at her phone for one more second she was going to scream.

“This could be worse,” Anya said slowly.

“How?” Clarke’s voice was muffled by the pillow still.

“Okay, for Christ’s sake.  I’m not talking to the pillow, Clarke, come on.”  She hauled her up and shook her lightly by the shoulders.  “You are a professional.  You can do this.”

“Yeah, and Bellamy Blake’s a royal asshole.”

“And you’re going to work with him because you’re an actor and this is what you do.”

Clarke just groaned again.

“The table read for the pilot is in two days.  Pull yourself together.”

“What happens if I quit?”

“You never get another job again and make ten dollars an hour salting fries at McDonald’s.”

“They pay that well?”

“ _Clarke_.   _Focus_.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay.”

“You don’t have to make out with the guy, all right?  Just pretend you like him.”

“Have you _met_ him?”

“Of course.”

Clarke opened her mouth but Anya cut her off.

“And no, Clarke I don’t think he’s Satan, spawn of the earth, son of the Devil.”

“Ugh.”

“Bellamy Blake is just like every other narcissistic asshole in this city and you’ve dealt with plenty of those just fine.”

“Yeah, but he’s _different_.”

Anya leveled a bored look at her.

Clarke gestured wildly.  “All that dumb swagger and too straight teeth and his dumb fucking hair.”

Anya sighed.  “Just work with him.  Okay?”

 

 

“I can’t work with him,” Clarke yelled into her phone after the table read.  “I can’t.  He’s rude and narcissistic and a _giant douchebag_!”

“Clarke,” Anya said from the other end of the line.  “I thought I asked you to stop yelling unnecessarily during our phone calls.”

“This is not _unnecessary_.  This is so necessary!  There has never been anything so necessary!”

“What happened.”  It was more of a statement than a question.  If Clarke was in a better mood she’d have thought about what sad things that said about her and Anya’s working relationship.

“Just _everything_.”

“That’s not an answer.  I’m going to hang up on you now.  I’m taking the night off to drink myself into a stupor.  Don’t call me unless you’re in jail or the hospital.  Okay?”

“Anya--!” But there was a click and then status on the line.

“Jesus fuck,” Clarke swore, preparing to dial her back.

“You all right there, princess?” a voice asked from behind her.

Clarke jumped, fingers clenching hard on her phone.

“Fine,” she snarled back.  “Just fine.”

She braced herself and turned.  Forced a smile.  One of Bellamy Blake’s perfect eyebrows went up.

“You sure about that?  You seemed pretty upset.”  He gestured to her phone.

“Oh, I was just telling my agent about how much of an _asshole_ you are.”

His answering smile was bemused.  “Oh, Clarke, just as fun as ever.”

“Right, unlike you.”

“Everyone’s entitled to an opinion,” he replied.

She rolled her eyes.

“My sister says hi by the way.”

Clarke deflated a little.  “How is she?”

“Good, good.  Engaged.”

“No way!”

Marcus Kane’s head appeared around the doorframe.  “Not that I don’t love the sound of you two not yelling at each other but I need you both back in here.”

Bellamy made a grand windmilling gesture with one arm that was accompanied by a wide grin.  “After you, _princess_.”

“Oh, fuck you, Blake,” Clarke growled.

She felt more than saw his grin as she passed him.

 

 _“It’s officially pilot season, ladies and gentlemen, and Hollywood is simply awash in news.  But tonight I want to turn my attention first to the CW and the shows it’s looking at picking up for this fall.  Surprisingly, so far Marcus Kane’s, who we all know as the man who wrote and executive produced runaway success_ Arkadia _, teen drama about college kids with superpowers_ Gen Super _is leading the pack.  It certainly does seem like something that would perk up the CW exec’s ears with Kane’s track record, it’s likely draw from the teen and young adult demographic, and fairly well-established cast but we’re looking at a surprising collaboration between Clarke Griffin and Bellamy Blake, both brilliant actors but nearly impossible to wrangle into working together.  Production on the pilot is expected to wrap in a few days and industry insiders are already saying_ Gen Super’s _odds are looking good.  And I, for one, am looking forward to watching those two pretend to like each other.”_

(“ _CW to Pick Up Superpowered Teen College-Drama from_ Arkadia _EP?_ ” Hypable. Web.)

 

Marcus Kane @MarcusKane

And that’s a wrap on the #GenSuper pilot! Thank you to the fabulous cast and crew! @cgriffs @bellblake

 

Clarke Griffin @cgriffs

Had a great time working on #GenSuper with @bellblake @raven_reyes @jazzjordan and so many others, cross your fingers for a pickup!

 

Bellamy Blake @bellblake

@cgriffs It was great working with you, too, princess

 

Clarke cracked open a beer and threw herself back on the couch.  Raven turned the volume on the TV down.

“They calm down yet?”

Clarke growled.  “No.  Twitter is a vast mess of ‘oh, they’re so cute!’ and ‘I thought they hated each other but I’m so down!’.”  She paused.  “And those are the ones that aren’t giving me nightmares.”

“And I want to know absolutely nothing about the ones that are,” Octavia Blake announced, reappearing in the doorway from Raven’s bathroom.  “That is my brother you’re talking about.”

“Don’t remind me,” Clarke said into her beer.

Raven nudged her.  “He’s not that bad.”

“You just think that because you dated him him for two months,” Clarke snapped back.

“He’s a good--”

Octavia blanched.  “Guys, fucking seriously.  We have had this conversation before, I don’t want to know jack shit about Bellamy’s sex life, okay?”

“Well that’s going to be a little difficult,” Raven said around a wide smile, “when one of us fucked him and the entirety of the internet thinks the other one currently is.”

Clarke closed her eyes and inhaled deeply.  “There is no universe in which I would willingly--”

“Glad to hear it,” Octavia said loudly over the loud sound of her wrestling the remote out of Raven’s hand to turn up the volume.  “Now, HGTV or E!?”

“God, please HGTV, if I have to hear my name on another entertainment news show I’m going to jump out a window,” Clarke replied and Octavia navigated to the channel.

“Nothing like watching a bunch of middle class couples try to buy houses they can’t afford,” Raven mused, taking a swig of her own beer before looking over at Octavia.  “So when are we meeting this fiance of yours?”

A sappy smile slid across Octavia’s face as she reached for the sparkling diamond on her ring finger, twisting it a little.  “Uh, whenever you want?”

“He must be a good guy, Bellamy likes him.”

Octavia rolled her eyes. “Yeah, not always.  Lincoln and I were dating for almost two years before Bellamy stopped side-eying him every time he came over.”

Clarke coughed.  “Sounds like him.”

“Someone needs to remove the pole shoved up his ass,” Raven added.

“Cheers,” Octavia said blandly, holding up her bottle.

The three of them clinked.

After a pause Raven said, “I nominate Clarke.”

“Raven!”

 

Clarke had met Octavia Blake by accident at a premiere.  It was the first and only time (before _Gen Super_ ) that she’d worked with Bellamy and she was thankful for the premiere and the end of the press tour and getting as far away from him as possible.

The red carpet had been relatively easy.  She’d posed for the cameras and answered a few questions and ducked inside to the coolness and privacy of the theater.  She was in the lobby when she nearly walked into a brunette model-looking type in a sequined dress, phone pressed to her ear, arguing with someone.

Clarke had wanted to snap at her for getting in her way but there was something in the hard line of her shoulders and the wrinkle between her eyebrows that smoothed out Clarke’s own rough edges.  She knew those signs--family trouble.

She hadn’t recognized her at first.  Where Bellamy was broad and dark, Octavia was slim and pale, taking more after their mother where Bellamy’s own genes seemed to come mostly from their father.  At least, that was what Clarke thought.  Bellamy rarely, if ever, talked about his past or his family, especially not with her.

“Well stop preening for the cameras and get your ass in here, I’m not standing around all day,” the girl had snapped into her phone and Clarke had smiled.  “What do you want?” was the following retort.

“Sorry, I was just--” Clarke gestured feebly and the girl raised her eyebrows in a challenge.

“Well, can you do it somewhere e--”

“Sorry, I’m late, O,” a voice had said behind Clarke and she’d frozen.  “Ah, I see you’ve met my delightful costar.”

Clarke had faked a smile.  “Bellamy.”

He nodded at her briefly before slinging an arm around the other girl’s shoulders.  “Clarke, this is my sister.  Octavia, may I introduce you to Clarke Griffin.”

Octavia’s handshake was firm and her smile was sharklike and Clarke wondered how she hadn’t noticed the resemblance between the siblings before.

 

Casey Lee @caseyj

@bellblake @raven_reyes what’s it like working with clarke is she as psycho in person

 

Bellamy Blake @bellblake

@caseyj Clarke is a great actress and beyond easy to work with

 

Bellamy Blake @bellblake

@caseyj and I don’t trash talk my coworkers

 

“I hate the Internet,” Clarke told her cat that weekend.

Paisley stared back at her with that bored expression that Clarke had tried and failed to master.  Her tail twitched.

Clarke’s phone vibrated on her table and she sighed, reaching over to answer.

“What.”

“That’s not a very nice way to answer your phone, princess.”

“Maybe I checked my caller ID first.”

‘That the best you got?  You’re slipping.”

‘What do you want, Bellamy.”

“O told me you want to meet Lincoln.  He’s coming over for dinner tomorrow if you’re interested.”

She was silent.  He sighed loudly.

“Bring Raven if you want, okay?  Look, Clarke, I don’t even care if you come.  I was just told to pass on the message.”  Another pause.  “6:30 my place if you’re coming.”

The line went dead.  Clarke looked over at her cat again.  Paisley was licking her fur in a carefully detached way that Clarke was jealous of.

“What do you think, Pais?” Clarke said softly.  “Do I go?”

She reached out to pet the cat and Paisley stretched under her fingers before leaping off the window ledge.

“Jesus,” Clarke muttered.  “Even my cat doesn’t like me.”

 

When Clarke had first met them, Bellamy and Octavia lived in a small two-bedroom apartment in North Hollywood.  She hadn’t kept up much with his career but Bellamy had obviously done well for himself since they first worked together.  That much was obvious when she pulled up in front of his apartment.

Well, maybe rowhouse or something pretentious like that was a more suitable word.

“Jesus,” Harper said from the backseat.

One of Raven’s eyebrows was making an ambitious bid for her hairline.  “Right you are, girlfriend.”

“All right let’s get this thing over with,” Clarke said, shoving open her door.  “I’m here for Octavia.”

“And I’m here to look threatening,” Raven added, crossing her arms.

“You’re not fooling anyone,” Clarke drawled back.  “I know the both of you are here just because you’re waiting for me to blow up at Bellamy.”

Raven and Harper exchanged shocked faces.

“We would never,” Harper said seriously.

Clarke snorted.  “You are literally the worst friends I have ever had.”

“But if say you were going to scream at him I’d rather experience it firsthand,” Raven said slowly.

Clarke rolled her eyes and started across the street.  “Come on, you assholes.”

Bellamy wrenched open the door within seconds of Clarke ringing the bell.  “Clarke, Raven, and...Harper?  Welcome, come on in.”

Clarke raised an eyebrow.  “Little eager there, are we?” She nodded towards his hand, which had a white-knuckled grip on the doorknob.

His grin was mocking.  “Well, you know, Griffin, some of us have images to maintain.”  He leaned and whispered, “images that don’t involve dumping spaghetti down our fronts.”

Clarke leaned in farther and replied, “maybe next time you’ll be the one with the spaghetti down your front, Blake.”  She pulled away and gave him a significant look before leading the way into the foyer.

“Nice try, Blake,” she heard Raven say and a sound that might have been her patting him on the back.

A good helping of the rest of the Gen Super cast was sprawled across Bellamy’s living room furniture and Clarke was glad.  She hadn’t worked with anyone other than Raven, Harper, or Bellamy in the past but she’d clicked easily with Miller and Monty and she was slowly getting there with Murphy, who was a bit of a dick but overall not that bad.

She entered the room to a chorus of, “Clarke!” and a sea of raised beer bottles and she grinned, sliding into an empty spot on the couch between Monty and Jasper.  Raven had disappeared into the kitchen, likely in search of alcohol, and Harper was already in deep conversation with Monroe.

“Good to see you haven’t killed Bellamy yet,” Jasper slurred, giving her a nod.

She chuckled.  “If I killed him I wouldn’t have a job.”

“Hey, man, none of us might have jobs in a few weeks.”

Clarke frowned.

“We’re going to get picked up,” Monty said seriously from her other side, knocking into her shoulder.  “You know how good Marcus is in with the CW.  And anyway, your rivalry with Bellamy is doing great things for the show’s publicity.”

“It is not a _rivalry_ ,” Clarke protested.

“How quickly you dismiss our torrid relationship, princess,” Bellamy called from the entryway.

She just rolled her eyes at him.

“Yo, Raven,” he added and she turned.  “Beer’s on the door behind the ketchup.”

“I know,” she calls back, “I saw.  I was just wondering if you have anything other than PBR.  What?” she demanded, “that shit’s disgusting.”

“That just means you’re not drunk enough yet,” Jasper told her.

“No, Jordan, it means she has standards,” Miller said from the floor.  “Unlike you.”  Clarke smiled.

“It’s all I got,” Bellamy said apologetically.  “Sorry.”

“Whatever.  Heads up, Clarke!”

She threw a can and Clarke caught it neatly in one hand, cracking the tab in the same motion.  It might have been her imagination but that might have also been an impressed look in Bellamy’s eye.

“Where’s your sister?” she asked lightly.

“Went to go pick up the fiance from the airport. She should be here any minute.”

Clarke took a swig of her beer.  Winced.  Bellamy winked at her.  She made a face back and turned to Monty.  “So I want to hear all about that indie feature you did, it looks awesome.”

Monty’s face lit up and he launched into a rambling speech.

Octavia appeared fifteen minutes later trailed by a hulking tree of a man with tribal tattoos, a shaved head, and a beard.  Clarke could see why he’d set off all of Bellamy’s big brother alarms but within seconds of shaking his hand, she could also understand why Octavia was so smitten with him.

Lincoln was soft spoken and calming with a sardonic sort of humor and eyes only for Octavia.  When she went to greet her brother his gaze followed her, a smile on his lips, even as Harper was asking him a question about what he did.

“Oh, I’m in sales,” he answered distractedly, finally turning his attention back to the rest of the room.  “I work for Apple.”

“Yo, dude, that’s the coolest,” Jasper cut in.  “Can you get me a discount?  Because like I need a new laptop.”

Clarke elbowed him and he threw her a wounded look.  “What, Clarke, I’m just working the system here.”

Lincoln laughed.  “I’ll see what I can do.”

“You’re the best,” Jasper told him with a drunkenly dopey smile. “Octavia, your boyfriend’s the best!”

“I know!” Octavia yelled back.

Unfortunately Jasper was right about the PBR.  By the third one, Clarke was a bit desensitized to the taste and was definitely leaning a bit hard on Monty’s shoulder, one arm thrown haphazardly over the back of the couch behind him.  Someone had ordered pizza and there were boxes strewn across the floor with a mess of paper plates and napkins.  Bellamy dropped onto the couch cushion next to her that Jasper had previously been occupying.  She hadn’t noticed him get up but at some point he’d disappeared and now seemed to be engrossed in some kind of competition with Raven that involved playing cards and rubber bands.   Clarke didn’t want to give it too much thought.

“Having a nice time, princess?” Bellamy asked softly, voice too low for anyone around them to hear.

She was going to make a sarcastic comment back but his eyes were serious when she turned to look at him.  Her _yeah, well, less now_ died in her throat and she swallowed.  “Shockingly,” she managed, momentarily distracted by the deep brown color of his eyes.  How had she never noticed that before?

She shook herself.   _Get yourself together, Clarke, you’re drunk, and you’re not thinking about Bellamy Blake’s eyes_.

She looked away and took a hurried sip of beer.  Because that would definitely help.

His laugh was more a sharp exhale than anything but it was there.  There was even a small smile playing around his lips.  “I’m sorry about what I said earlier.  About the spaghetti,” he clarified.

“Ah.”  She nodded.  “Your sister yell at you?”

They both looked to Octavia.   She was standing almost in the kitchen leaning back against Lincoln, his arms around her waist, her head on his shoulder, a wide smile on her face.

“Only a little,” he said, voice softer.  “But I am sorry.”

“Well, apology accepted.”

He nodded.

“Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t throw food all over you if I was given the chance,” she added before he had the chance to get up.

When he looked back at her there was a wild rakish grin on his face. _If you were anyone else,_ Clarke thought for a moment before she shut down that thought process.  “Right back at you, princess,” he said and for once the nickname didn’t have its usual sarcastic undertones.

“Maybe you’re not so bad,” Clarke said to the general vicinity of his collar, leaning into him a little.

Bellamy chuckled.  His arm swung up to rest across the top of the couch behind her.  “I didn’t know you were so easy, Griffin, or I would have tried this a long time ago.”

She shoved him.  “Don’t.”

“I kid.”

She gave him a hard look.  He smiled at her.

“Really.  I kid.”  He clears his throat, looking away. “Anyway, I invited you over didn’t I?”

“Yeah, along with the rest of the main cast.”  She gestured out to their coworkers spread out across the floor.

“Yeah, that was a bit of a last minute thing,” he hedged.  “Jasper found out about it this morning and then it kind of snowballed.”

She turned to stare at him.  “So you originally just meant to invite me over?”

He bit his lip.  “You’re good friends with my sister, okay, I thought you might want to meet her fiance.”

Clarke stuffed down her grin and flopped back against the armrest.  She could feel the heat from Bellamy’s forearm against the back of her neck.

“Okay, Bellamy,” she said.  “Whatever you say.”

 

 

TMZ @TMZ

Clarke Griffin spotted leaving Bellamy Blake’s apartment early Sunday -- a sign of blossoming romance?

 

“Okay, so the assholes at TMZ don’t understand casual friendship, so what?” Bellamy demanded.  His head was in her fridge and he was making her kitchen frigid.

“ _So_ ,” Clarke snapped.  “We have a major problem.”

“That people think someone might actually like me enough to date me?” His voice dripped sarcasm.

“No, that people will think _I_ like you enough to date you.”

“Touching as always, Clarke.”  He shifted a couple of bottles around.

“I do try.  And what the fuck are you looking for?”

“Do you have any yogurt?” He turned around to look at her, puzzle written in the lines between his eyebrows.

“I’m sorry?” she managed.

“Yogurt,” he repeated.

“No.”

“Well, why not?”

“Because I haven’t gone grocery shopping in a while, Jesus!  Everyone’s a critic,” she muttered.

“Yogurt is an important element of any well-stocked fridge, Clarke,” he told her with the air of a professor enlightening a particularly dumb student.

“I’ll keep it in mind,” she deadpanned back as she flopped backwards on her sofa.  “Is there any flavor you’re partial to?”

“Why so when you go grocery shopping next time you’ll buy me mango instead of passion fruit?”

She wrinkled her nose.  “There’s passion fruit yogurt?”

“The world is a dark place.”

“That’s disgusting.”

“Says the woman who has six week old oranges rotting on her counter.”

“They’re not _rotting_.  They’re….”  She paused.

He nodded.  “Rotting.”

“Okay, fine.  But I’ve been busy.”

He rolled his eyes.  “I don’t remember you being pathetic.”

“Call it a side effect of being dumped by your super hot supermodel girlfriend.”

“Well, see, if this was, say, six months ago, that would be a valid point.”

“Don’t be an asshole.”

“It’s in my DNA.”

She shot him a disgruntled look and he shot back a sunny smile.

“Why are you in my apartment again?”

He shrugged.  “Octavia took over mine.  Wedding planning.  There are lots of folded napkins and blushing bridesmaids.”  He made a face.  “Way too much perfume.  And there’s only so many times I can hear them argue over what shade of blue the place settings should be before I start losing what little sanity I have left.”

“I was under the impression that you had none.”

“Oh, now that’s cute.”

Clarke had a vague memory of this information being shared earlier.  Bellamy had shown up on her doorstep with a frantic look on his face and had immediately pushed past her with a bare greeting.  She’d still been reeling from her voyage into the depths of the Internet that she wished she hadn’t gone on.  Some people were way way way too good with Photoshop.

“I’m sorry I don’t have yogurt.”

“It’s okay.”

There was a long pause.  “Do you want to go to the store and get some?”

She sighed loudly.  “No, Bellamy, we are not going to the store to get you fucking mango yogurt.”

“For the record, Clarke, I prefer peach.”

“Well isn’t that great.   _Hey, fucker, give me the remote back_.”

He wiggled it at her, eyebrows raised.  “Make me.”

Clarke weighed her options.  Option A was throwing Bellamy out of her apartment to fend for himself, thus claiming back her remote the easy way.  B was suffering through whatever History Channel documentary he’d managed to queue up while she was slightly distracted by the differences between sky and baby blue.  And Option C was really really really not a good idea.

She went with it anyway.

Bellamy clearly hadn’t been expecting her to tackle him, if the wide-eyed look in his eye and flush high in his cheeks were any clue.  He was warmer than she’d expected, his skin burning through the layers of their clothing.  He stretched his arms out behind him, holding the remote just out of reach as she scrabbled for it, inching farther and farther up his body, feet flailing behind him.

“Jesus, Clarke, that was my spleen!”

“Just _give it to me_.”

“Did you miss all the important lessons in kindergarten or something?  Skip preschool?  That would explain a lot.”

They were nearly face to face now, and his words were sending small puffs of air across her face.  His breath smelled like mint.

If some stuffy British man in a tweed suit hadn’t been rambling about the importance of the orientation of the stones at Stonehenge, she would have wondered if that meant he’d brushed his teeth before coming over.  But she had more important things to deal with.

One last frantic kick sent her sprawling over him and her fingers closed around hard plastic.

“Ha!”

“Has anyone told you that you are excessively competitive?” he said around a mouthful of her hair.

“Every teacher I’ve ever had and half the babysitters,” she replied conversationally, settling back on her half of the couch.  “Maybe a couple of nannies.”

“And you didn’t think that maybe you have a problem?”

“Says the man who came into my apartment and stole my remote.  House rules, Bellamy, you have to ask.”

“Well, next time I want an impromptu operation rearranging my internal organs, I’ll steal your remote again.”

Clarke hid her grin.

“Thanks for letting me stay.”

“I don’t recall saying that you could.”

“Well thanks anyway.”

“You’re welcome, Blake, now shut up.”

 

TVGuide @TVGuide

Your guide to pilot season: what’s hot, what’s not, and what’s going to be on your screens this fall.

 

Marcus Kane @MarcusKane

Officially headed back to YVR, can’t wait to see some old (and new) faces again!

 

Sara @saraloves1d

@MarcusKane does that mean you got picked up???

 

Lisa Kay @spacemonkey04

@MarcusKane don’t tease!!!!!

 

Paisley liked Octavia a lot more than she liked Clarke.  This became immediately obvious within five minutes of Octavia entering Clarke’s apartment.  The cat, the traitor, was weaving around O’s ankles and purring like a machine.  Clarke had had Paisley for two years and she’d never wound around Clarke’s ankles like that.

“It is absolutely not fair that my cat likes you more,” Clarke grumbled as she took Octavia’s coat.

O grinned.  “It’s okay, we’re even.  My brother likes you more at the moment,” she added in response to Clarke’s raised eyebrows.

Clarke coughed.  “Now I’m a little impressed, what’d you do to him?”

She waved a hand.  “Oh, nothing, just kept asking him when he was going to confirm the rumors.”  She whipped her phone out.  “Speaking of which, he’s due for another volley of texts.”

“Confirmation about what?” Clarke asked dumbly.

“That the two of you are entrenched in a secret and extremely passionate love affair,” Octavia replied as if she was talking about the weather.  Or maybe how gas prices had gone down.

“But we’re not,” Clarke said slowly.

“Oh, I know, I’m not an idiot.”  Octavia looked up.  “I know what Bell’s like when he’s getting some.”

Clarke choked.

“And he’s wound way way way too tight to have a girlfriend.”

“I thought you didn’t want to know about his sex life?”

“I’ve lived with the man for essentially my entire life, Clarke, you don’t think I know more than I want to about his habits?”

“Right, right, of course.  Uh, you want a beer?”

“Nah, water’s great though, thanks.”  She reached down and scratched Paisley behind the ears.  “Why aren’t you dating him, though?”

“Who, your brother?”

“Yeah.”

“Uh, because he’s a giant asshole and I hate him?”

Octavia gave her a dull look.  “No, you don’t.”

“I do.”

That earned her one of the Blake-patented smiles. “No.  You don’t.”

 

Marcus Kane @MarcusKane

So thankful to the CW for a series order of #GenSuper!  @cgriffs @bellblake @raven_reyes @jazzjordan

 

Marcus Kane @MarcusKane

Follow the official twitter at @GenSuperCW and check out our writers, hard at work on season 1! @allieo @davebush04 @franzzy @katie_gray05

 

Clarke Griffin @cgriffs

Thanks for the support, everyone, #GenSuper will be on your screens October 5th!

 

“I am never going back to LA,” Clarke announced.

“You’re just saying that because you’re drunk,” Miller said from the couch.

Clarke rolled over onto her back and smiled up at the ceiling.  “Yeah, you’re probably right.  This city is fucking awesome though.  There are _trees_.”

“She grew up in San Diego,” someone, Monty probably, offered helpfully.

“Who’s telling Marcus that we got his star super trashed at our ‘we got picked up!’ party?” someone else asked.

“I nominate Jasper,” Bellamy answered. “He’s the one who brought the tequila.”

“No party is complete without tequila,” Jasper protested.

Miller’s smile was evident in his voice.  “I’m pretty sure Clarke’s going to fight you on that one tomorrow.”

“I can take her.”

Someone snorted.

“Clarke, babe?” someone was saying, and a hand was stroking through her hair.

Clarke cracked her eyes open.  “Yeah, I’m here.”

“You ready to go home?”

She tried to struggle up into a sitting position, Raven’s hand on her back guiding her.  The room swayed alarmingly.

“Please,” she managed.

“All right, let’s go.”

A pair of beat up red Converse with fraying laces and dark Sharpie lines traced across the white toes appeared in Clarke’s eyeline.  She focused on one of the eyelets, bent out of shape and sharp looking, and tried to quell the nausea rising in her stomach.  “I’ll take her,” Bellamy’s voice said.  “You’re going the other way.”

Raven’s hand tightened on Clarke’s arm.  “It’s fine, I got her.”

“Seriously, Raven, it’s three AM.  Just go home.”

“ _I can take her_ ,” Raven repeated.

“Jesus,” Bellamy snapped back. “It’s not like I’m planning on murdering her and leaving her in a dumpster downtown.  I’m just going to take her home, make sure she gets into bed, get her Advil, and go home myself.  Okay?”

Clarke looked between Raven, who was deliberating, and Bellamy, whose hands were spread in a pleading gesture.

“Seriously, Raven.”

“How much have you had to drink?”

“Nothing in hours.  I swear.”

“If a single thing happens to her, I will have your balls.”

“And so will my sister.  I’ll take good care of her.”

Now it was Bellamy’s hand, larger and warm, pads of his fingers rough with callouses, on her arm, guiding her to her feet.  “There you go, princess, easy does it.”  And then lower, “I am never letting you drink tequila ever again.”

“We could just ban Jasper from every cast event,” Miller added.  “Seems easier.”

Harper barked a laugh.

“Guys, that’s rude,” Jasper cut in, sounding sullen.

“A matter for another day,” Bellamy told them, slinging an arm around Clarke’s waist.  “See you guys later.”

He guided her out of the apartment (Clarke had forgotten whose apartment it was an hour ago, or maybe more) and out onto the sidewalk.

“God, you are a bad drunk, aren’t you,” Bellamy muttered.

Clarke’s head lolled back against his shoulder.  “Maybe I’m just enjoying being dragged out to your car,” she slurred.

Bellamy chuckled.  “Careful how loud you say that, Raven’ll come out and repossess you.”

“ ‘s nice of you to drive me,” Clarke mumbled as he unlocked his car and she slid into the passenger seat.

“Just doing my civic duty,” he said as he buckled her seatbelt for her and turned the key in the ignition.  “My good deed quota been a bit lacking lately.”

“Ha,” she said quietly, eyes already closing again.

She’d been expecting his speech to Raven to be a front, for him to pull up in front of her building, engine still idling and to say, “night, princess, see you later.”  Maybe if she was lucky he’d wait until she got into her apartment to go speeding out of the parking lot.

Instead, he pulled into a parking space and turned off the engine, slipping his keys into his jeans pocket.  “Up you get, Clarke, come on.”

The only thing she could think of to say was, “this is a handicapped parking space.”

Bellamy sighed loudly.  “And it’s three thirty in the morning, I’d be surprised if someone really needs the space that badly.”

He unclicked her seatbelt.  “Which one’s yours?”

“305,” she managed.  “Keys are in my bag.”

He was waiting for her when she struggled out of the car, one hand extended for balance.  It immediately slid around her waist as she sagged into him and she groaned.

“I am never drinking again.”

He laughed.  “Yeah, right.”

“ _Seriously_.”

“You forget, I raised Octavia through her teenage years.  Lots of hair holding in my past, princess.”

“Well bully for you.  Elevator’s at the end of the hall.”

“Good.  If there were stairs I was going to make you crawl up them.”

“Chivalry is dead,” she commented.

“Don’t you know it.”

That said, he did unlock her door for her and offered to take her shoes off.  She told him very unpolitely that she’d kick him in the nose if he tried.  After that, he disappeared into the kitchen to bang around in her cabinets looking for Advil.  He came back with a glass of water and two pills in his outstretched palm.  She swallowed them greedily.

“Where’s your bedroom?”

“What.”

“Your bedroom.  The room, where you sleep.”

“I, uh, _what_?”

“I’m trying to make sure you don’t pass out in your living room, Clarke, help me out a little here.”

She gestured and took a step backwards, stumbling a little.

It might have been her imagination but there seemed to be a small smile playing around Bellamy’s lips as he said, “See?  This is what I’m talking about, you’re a disaster.”

“Not a disaster,” she countered.

“A drunk disaster,” he repeated.

“I shouldn’t drink tequila.”  She paused. “I do love margaritas though.”

“Who doesn’t.”

She dissolved into giggles.  He rolled his eyes and leaned down.  One of Bellamy’s arms was under her knees and Clarke choked.

“What are you--”

His other arm was across her back and her feets were dangling in the air.  One of her flats slipped off.

“I’m perfectly capable of walking,” she told him.

He snorted.  “You almost did a swan dive into your carpet just there.”

“It’s soft.”

“Still.  Do you want to sleep in what you’re wearing or should I pull some clothes out for you?”

Clarke’s cheeks reddened at the thoughts of Bellamy _fucking Blake_ going through her drawers.  “No, this is fine,” she said meekly.

He laid her out softly on the bed and pulled her covers back for her.  She slid under, eyes already starting to slip shut.

His fingers might have brushed across her forehead, tucking a lock of errant hair behind her ear. “Goodnight, Clarke,” he whispered and then his footsteps were receding and the door clicked shut.

 

Clarke woke the next morning with a hammer pounding away at the inside of her skull.  She groaned and rolled over.

Curse Jasper and his fucking tequila.

She rolled out of bed and padded over to her dresser, pulling out a pair of pajama pants and a loose t-shirt, replacing the clothes she’d been too stubborn to take off the night before.

Her head still ached and her throat was dry and she needed water.  And probably more painkillers than were medically advised.

She wandered into the living room, stepping over the shoes that had fallen off her feet last night and yawned.

Then jumped, nearly slamming her elbow into the end table.

Because Bellamy Blake was asleep on her couch, knees curled up, hair tousled, face lined with marks from the stitching on the pillow, mouth open just slightly.

Paisley was curled up inches from his face, amber eyes blinking lazily at Clarke.

“Jesus,” Clarke muttered, hand pressed to her chest.  “Okay.  Okay, this is fine.”

Bellamy shifted slightly and she bolted, making a run for the kitchen and pressing herself against the counter, counting her breaths.

Bellamy Blake was asleep on her couch and Clarke was definitely way too fucking hungover for this.

“Sometimes I wish chivalry was dead,” Clarke told a pair of alarmingly ripe bananas.

Bellamy had left the Advil out on the counter the night before and she dry swallowed two before chugging a glass of water.

She tiptoed back out into the living room to find that Bellamy hadn’t moved and her bag was still abandoned by the front door.  Thankfully, blessedly, her phone was still charged.

Y _our brother is passed out on my couch_ , she typed, _please advise._

Octavia’s response came back moments later: _Do not wake the angry bear.  Make coffee instead.  Cream.  No sugar._

Then: _why the fuck is bell on your couch_

Clarke chose to ignore that last text and Octavia’s frightening lack of capitalization (never a good sign) and instead returned to the kitchen to dig out her coffee.

The machine had been gurgling along happily for several moments when Paisley stalked into the kitchen and alighted neatly on the counter next to Clarke’s hand.  Aimlessly, she stroked the cat’s back.  Surprisingly, Paisley allowed it, arching into the touch.

“Coffee?” Bellamy’s sleep-groggy voice asked from the doorway.

Clarke nearly jumped out of her skin again.

He offered her a small smile in apology and she nodded.

“Figured you could do with some.”  She filled two cups and slid one to him.  “Half and half’s in the fridge.”

She sipped hers and made a face at the temperature.

“Thanks,” she said after a long silence.

He smiled into his cup.  “You’re welcome, princess.”

 

“Hey, Clarke?” one of the PAs had their head stuck through her trailer door.  “Marcus is looking for you.”

Clarke groaned.  It had been a long day and an even longer week and all she really wanted was to go home and sleep through the entire weekend.

“Can’t it wait until Monday?”

The PA grimaced.  “He said it’s urgent.”

“Right,” Clarke muttered under her breath, slinging her hair up in a loose ponytail and grabbing her sweatshirt.  “Urgent, okay, Marcus.”

It was mid-April but the weather in Vancouver had yet to turn from drizzly and, by Clarke’s life-long California standards, cold to something more pleasant.  She’d thought the crew had been joking when they said that sometimes it took until July for the northwest to perk up.  Apparently they hadn’t.

She was less than thrilled to find a second occupant in Kane’s office, draped over one of two chairs pulled up in front of his desk, playing with the strings of his hoodie.

“Clarke,” Bellamy said politely when she entered.

“Bellamy.”

They’d been getting along better than they had well, ever.  Insults were becoming less and less of a daily occurrence and there were some days that Clarke went home without entertaining a single thought about strangling him.  He was her costar, their characters were becoming close friends, and she was determined to at least pretend to like him while they were at work.

Back at the beginning of Clarke’s career, Marcus Kane had directed a handful of episodes of a show Clarke had had a long run as a guest star on.  They’d struck up a strong working relationship and had kept quasi-in touch.  It was probably the reason Anya had pushed _Gen Super_ so hard at Clarke in the first place.  Marcus knew what she was capable of and he was the most likely to wait for her to sort her shit out post-Lexa.

Marcus’ hands were folded on the desk and there was a line of what might have been worry between his eyebrows.

Clarke sat.

“Clarke, Bellamy, I just wanted to pull you both aside to say thank you so much for the truly amazing work you’ve been putting into this show.  Every day you both come to work you just remind me why I knew you two were perfect for these roles.”

Clarke and Bellamy exchanged a confused look.

“And now I’m coming to you two with a...well, a strange request.”

“Strange?” Bellamy repeated.

Marcus swallowed and looked away.  “I know that the both of you maintain a fairly significant Internet presence.  You’re aware that you have fans.”  He looked between them, likely expecting a response.  None came.  “And that there are some who are...speculating about the nature of the relationship between you.”

“And that’s all it is,” Clarke burst out.  “Speculation.  Bellamy and I can barely stand each other.”

“Always nice to hear from you, princess,” Bellamy said, a small fake-looking smile affixed to his face.

“Well, you can’t deny it,” she snapped back.

His smile widened by a fraction of an inch.

Marcus looked downright uncomfortable now.  “Well, it wouldn’t come as a _surprise_ , per se, if...well, if you two were to.”  He stopped.

“If we were to what, exactly?” Bellamy asked, but there was something in the narrowing of his eyes that suggested to Clarke he was connecting the dots just the same as she had.

Marcus sighed.  “It would be in the best interest of the show and I think both your careers if you were to be seen as a couple.”

Silence.

“A dating couple,” Marcus added as if that hadn’t been clear.

Bellamy and Clarke exploded simultaneously.

“If we _what_?” Clarke demanded at the same time that Bellamy just started laughing.  He slipped sideways, dangerously close to falling out of his chair.

“The history between the two of you is well known,” Marcus went on, talking over Clarke’s continued splutters.  “And it hasn’t escaped the notice of certain news organizations--”

“What, you mean _fucking TMZ_?” Clarke interjected.

Marcus gave her an icy look.  “ _Certain news organizations_ that the two of you are spending more time together.  Costars are known to fall for each other.  It doesn’t need to be anything extravagant or long lasting.  Just...through the airing of the first season.  For press.”

“ _The entire first season?_ ”

“That’s like March,” Bellamy said slowly.  “You want us to fake a relationship for a _year_?”

“It doesn’t have to be fake,” Marcus hedged.

“ _As if_ ,” Bellamy and Clarke yelled in unison.

“Then, yes,” he said.  “I want you to fake a relationship for a year.”

Bellamy’s looked away, ran a hand through his hair. “This is ridiculous.”

“But you’ll do it?”

Bellamy sighed loudly.  “If princess here is in, then so am I.”

Both Marcus and Bellamy turned to her.  Clarke reddened.  “What the fuck, how do you fucking expect me to---  This is _bullshit_.”

“I know,” Marcus said somberly.  “But you have to admit, Clarke dear, that you could do with some good press.  And Bellamy is the entertainment media’s golden boy.”

Bellamy seemed to swell a little at the compliment.

“Oh, don’t remind me,” she snapped back.

“Please, Clarke.  I wouldn’t be asking either of you to do this if I thought it would do more harm than good.”

She looked away and chewed on her lip.  “Fine.  Until March _at the latest_.   Then I’m done.”

Marcus nodded.  “Yes, of course.  March.  We’ll debut you as a couple at the Upfronts next month?”

Clarke pushed her chair back and stood.  She felt shaky.  “Fine,” she managed.  “Yeah, sounds fine.”

Bellamy was standing next to her, that grin she hated so much back on his face.  He offered her his arm in a mock gesture of gentlemanliness.  “My lady?”

For just a moment, Clarke wondered where the Bellamy who had wanted to ask only her over so she could meet his sister’s fiance, where the Bellamy who had insisted on driving her home and slept on her couch, had gone.

“Fuck off,” she snapped, storming past him.

“You’re going to need to work on your bedside manner, princess!” he called after her.

In response, she just lifted her middle finger above her head.  The sound of his laughter followed her all the way to the parking lot.

 

Clarke Griffin @cgriffs

#CWUpfronts tonight!  Get excited and get ready!

 

Raven Reyes @raven_reyes

They’re looking good! @bellblake @cgriffs #CWUpfronts #killinit

 

JustJared.com @JustJared

#GenSuper costars @cgriffs and @bellblake attend #CWUpfronts together...as a couple?

 

TMZ @TMZ

Are @GenSuperCW’s @cgriffs and @bellblake dating?  The world wants to know!

 

~caitlyn~ @marrymelouis

First an international supermodel and now Bellamy Blake?  What does Clarke Griffin have that I don’t?

 

Gen Super CW @GenSuperCW

Our main cast all dolled up at the #CWUpfronts!  Don’t miss the first trailer for #GenSuper, online now!

 

Anya called her the morning after the Upfronts at 7 AM.  Clarke, who was boasting an impressive hangover, a relic of the after party, rolled over groaning.

“What do you want?” she croaked into the phone, hand already scrabbling for the bottle of aspirin she kept in her bedside drawer.

The smile in Anya’s voice was apparent as she replied, “I hear you found yourself a rebound.”

“Jesus,” Clarke groaned.

“I’d say congratulations but a little bird told me--”

“For fuck’s sake, Anya, what do you want?”

“Next time I see you, Griffin, you owe me a dollar.”

“Bullshit,” Clarke muttered.

“Two.”  A pause. “What did Marcus offer you?”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t lie to me, Clarke.”

“ _Nothing_ ,” she repeated, struggling to open the bottle with one hand.  “I swear.”

“So you did it out of the goodness of your own heart?  Charitable.”

“I don’t have a heart, Anya, you know that.”

A dry chuckle.  “This will be good for you.”

“That’s what Marcus kept telling me.”  She finally popped the lid off, sending a cascade of pills spilling across her bedspread.  “ _Motherfucker_.”

“I’ve been getting calls all morning,” Anya adds, graciously not mentioning the slip.

“Uh huh?”

“I let them all go to voicemail.  But they all want to know about you and Bellamy.”

“I don’t give a shit what you tell them,” Clarke told her honestly.

“Well, your stories are going to have to hold up if you’re going to play this out as long as Marcus has planned.”

Clarke froze.  “He _told_ you, didn’t he?  Before he asked me and Bellamy?”

The silence on the other end of the phone was all she needed.  “That backstabbing son of a bitch.”

“That man is your boss, Clarke, I’d watch your language.”  But Anya’s tone was relaxed, easy.

“I can’t believe it.  Did he tell Bellamy’s agent, too?”

“I can only imagine.”  She paused.  “He knows you both too well, it would seem.”

“Apparently,” Clarke grumbled.

“Talk to Bellamy.  Figure this shit out.  Then we’ll work on releasing something to the press, all right?”

“Yeah, fine.”

Clarke hung up and flopped back on her bed, groaning.  It was a Sunday morning, it was too early to be awake, and she needed to text Bellamy Blake.

He invited himself into her apartment with an easy grin, eyes raking over the rumpled pajamas Clarke hadn’t yet changed out of.

“I swung by that bagel place you and O like,” he said gruffly, shoving a warm bag into her hands and then turning away, hands deep in his pockets, to survey her living room.  “You have a nice place.”

“Thanks,” Clarke said slowly.  The aspirin was just beginning to clear away the worst of her headache but she still felt like she was trapped in a fog.  Not that this territory would have been easy to navigate sober.  “And thanks for coming.”

He shrugged then pointed hesitantly to the couch.  She nodded and he sat back carefully, keeping to one side in deference.

She settled herself on the other side and slipped out a bagel.  She shouldn’t have been surprised that it was her favorite, sesame slathered in honey cream cheese.  Bellamy had never been anything but observant.

“I’m guessing you got an early wake up call this morning,” Bellamy began when she didn’t say anything.

She nodded.  “Anya told me to call you.  She said something about needing to work on a story.”

Bellamy cracked the smallest of smiles.  “I heard the same thing.”  He spread his hands.  “So, princess, what’s it going to be?”

She took a bite of her bagel to think.  “Well, it’s like Marcus said isn’t it?  It’s typical.  Costars fall for each other all the time.”

“We’re going to need more than that if we’re going to sell this thing for a year, Clarke.”

She shuddered.  “Jesus, don’t remind me.”

A dark look passed briefly over his face.  “What, because I’m repugnant or something?”

She stopped.  “No,” she said slowly.  “Because I think this is stupid and also we can barely stand each other on a good day.  Now I don’t even have the cathartic release of yelling at you when I’m having a bad day.”

He huffed out a laugh.  “Yeah, right.”  His face sobered.  “But we need a real story, Clarke.  You’re good news and they’re not going to let the fact that you’re dating someone new go just like that.”  He snapped his fingers and leveled a hard look at her.

Clarke sighed and dropped her head against the back of the couch.  “I know, you’re right.”

“The general idea is fine.  We work together, we spend a lot of time together, on and off set.  You’re friends with my sister.  I’ve seen you more since we started filming this show than I ever have since we met six years ago.”

“So what?  Our mutual dislike blossomed into romance or some fairytale bullshit?”

He shrugged.  “I was thinking hate sex turned into a real relationship but take your pick.”

Clarke snorted.  “Please.”

He looked affronted.

“What?” she demanded, “ do all your friends with benefits suddenly realize they’re madly in love with you?”

“I’ve never had a friend with benefits.”

She choked.  “Bull _shit_.”

“Seriously.”

She looked him up and down, one eyebrow raised incredulously.  “How do you look like you do and never have a friend with benefits?”

“I don’t like casual hookups.”

“You are the weirdest fucking guy I’ve ever met.”

“Was that a compliment?”

“I honestly don’t know.”

His laugh was small and it looked like it surprised him.  Clarke cocked her head and studied him.

“Either way,” she said finally, “we’re agreed on the story?”  
“Agreed,” he replied.

 

JustJared.com @JustJared

They’re official!  Bellamy Blake and Clarke Griffin are dating and unashamed to share their new love, out and about holding hands in LA.

 

_12\. Clarke Griffin & Bellamy Blake_

_The_ Gen Super _costars have never been friendly in the public eye but the dark recesses of the Internet have been claiming to see something building between the two of them for years.  There’s no denying their social circles have been overlapping since they first worked together on_ Climbing the Mountain _in 2007: Griffin is good friends with his sister and Blake famously dated her best friend, Raven Reyes, also a member of_ Gen Super’s _main cast, (can we say awkward?) for a handful of months in 2011.  They claim it was long hours on set that led to the burgeoning feelings between them and nothing more but no matter what caused this unlikely union, this reporter is thrilled that I get to watch two exceptionally beautiful and talented people be beautiful and talented together._

(“ _15 (Bizarre) Celebrity Couples We Should Have Seen Coming_ ” BuzzFeed. Web.)

 

“I cannot believe this, they love you,” Raven said the minute Clarke opened the door for her.  “‘ _Clarke Griffin and Bellamy Blake: Romance of the Century’_ and “ _Gen Super costars find love and solace in each other._ ””

“You made that last one up,” Bellamy said from the couch.  He had his fingers tangled in Paisley’s fur and Clarke’s laptop on his knees.  “No one uses the word ‘solace’ anymore, Reyes, get with the program.”

Raven rolled her eyes.  “Does he live here now, too?” she demanded.

“Keeping up appearances.  The Toyota in front of the building is paparazzi,” Clarke explained.  She checked her watch. “Speaking of which, it’s been three hours, I figure you’re good.  Didn’t you say you had to pick up your dry cleaning?”

“Fuck, right.  Thanks, princess.”

He smiled at her as he stood, patting Paisley one last time, who mewled in agitation at being disturbed.

“Come back soon,” Clarke deadpanned.  “My cat likes you more than me.”

He laughed.  “Saturday?”

“Saturday works.  Bring Chinese, though, the place you went last time.”

“Aye aye, captain.”

There was a slightly dopey smile on Clarke’s face when he leaned in to kiss her cheek.  “Bye, Raven.”

Then he was out the door and it was snapping shut loosely behind him.  The key turned in the lock. Raven’s jaw was open so wide Clarke could see the sparkle of fillings in her molars.

“What the _fuck_ was that?” Raven demanded, gesturing at the door.

Clarke returned to the couch, sitting where Bellamy had been before.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“He has a key?  I’ve been your best friend for years and _I don’t have a key_.”

Clarke shrugged.  “What kind of boyfriend doesn’t have a key to his girlfriend’s place?”

“So you’re telling me that you have a key to his apartment, too?” Raven’s eyebrow went up.

Clarke reached for her keychain and held up a shining new gold on in the middle of the ring.  She smiled.  Raven glared.

“Also, so you know,” Clarke continued breezily. “The media attention isn’t all stars and rainbows.  We’re both getting hate mail.  Some woman from E! called me a gold-digging lesbian bitch last night on live television and they didn’t even bleep it out.”

“Jesus.”

“Yeah, well, it is what it is.”

“11 more months,” Raven said quietly and Clarke grimaced.

“11 more months,” she repeated.  Paisley purred against her fingers and Clarke smiled.

 

Work is now awkward.

Clarke was never one of those oversharer types who felt the need to tell her coworkers everything but she liked the easy camaraderie that came with knowing pieces of each other’s lives.  The shooting of the pilot had been a bit awkward at first, as it always was with a new cast where pieces of it knew each other.  But they’d migrated together eventually, knitting together into a cohesive whole.

So now Clarke knew that Miller was hopelessly head over heels for Monty, that Jasper was exuberantly courting the writer’s room PA, a sweet girl named Maya, and that Monty did in fact reciprocate Miller’s feelings but he was too worried about the effect coming out of the closet would have on his career to do anything about it.  And in turn, they knew the backstory on her disastrous breakup with Lexa, about how her cat liked Octavia more than it liked her, and that she and her mom were estranged enough to make obligatory family gatherings like Thanksgiving and Christmas awkward.

What Clarke had conveniently forgotten about was that casts were notoriously gossipy, especially when they were made up of early to mid-20 something actors and two of their fellow cast members started dating without anyone knowing.

When Clarke and Bellamy had appeared on the CW Upfronts red carpet arm in arm, smiling and waving, Raven had been the only one who knew anything about their deal with Marcus.  Clarke and Bellamy had spent the weeks between that conversation and the event laying the groundwork that would mean it wasn’t a total surprise: a lingering look her, casual touches there.  Warmth now colored Clarke’s taunts and Bellamy’s use of “princess.”  Maybe they even could have been friends.

They’d decided not to clue the cast in if only because most of them, especially Jasper, couldn’t keep a secret to save their lives.  There was too much riding on the line, and the threat of being found out was too risky and potentially damaging.  So instead, Clarke bid her time and sent Bellamy a picture of her dress so he could match his tie and sometimes when they were in LA on weekends, they met up in the neutral ground of Octavia and Lincoln’s apartment to practice smiling at each other and touching without flinching.

Somehow, it worked.

But now set was awkward.  Too often Kane directed his words at the general vicinity of Clarke’s shoulder or Bellamy’s forehead and the rest of the cast and crew were insufferable.  There were talks of a romance between their characters being written into season two.  The thought made Clarke feel ill.

And yet she still looked forward to going to work, to Harper’s warm smile and Miller’s clap on the shoulder and even Jasper’s jokes about Bellamy’s freckles mapping out the path to Clarke’s heart and other equally cheesy things that made everyone in a five hundred foot vicinity flinch.  Every Monday she regaled them with a spinning web of what she and Bellamy had done that weekend and they all _ooohed_ and _aahed_ and smiled and Clarke knew that even if they hadn’t bought it at first, they were convinced now.  It would be hard not to be when Clarke was blushing over a story of Bellamy cooking her dinner for the first time, his arm looped loosely around her waist, fingers absentmindedly brushing her hipbone, head ducked down to listen to her, smile on his lips.

Some days, when Bellamy was looking at her like that, even Clarke forgot that they were faking.

Her weekly Friday girls’ night with Raven (and sometimes Octavia) were her solace.  She could drop the act and pretend, if only for a few hours, that she wasn’t dating one of young Hollywood’s most eligible bachelors, that she wasn’t getting Twitter hate on the regular from fourteen year olds, and that in less than twelve hours she would be back to smiling like a lovestruck fool at the man who, only a few months prior, had been her sworn enemy.

“You know that the longer you do this, the more you’re fucked, right?” Raven observed one night.

Clarke was three beers in and contemplating tequila and this was an unwelcome conversation.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she said stiffly, signaling the bartender.

“I’m just saying,” Raven continued.  “It’s a slippery slope, you know?  He smiles at you all wide and dimple-y and the next thing you know you’re waking up in his bed.”

Clarke downed her shot and pushed the glass back in a nonverbal request for a refill. “For Christ’s sake, Raven, I’m not going to fuck him.  No matter how he smiles at me.”

“It’s the Blake sibling charm,” Raven mused.  She slanted Clarke a calculating look.  “Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about doing Octavia at least once.”

“Not when she’s Bellamy’s sister,” Clark replied darkly, throwing back her second shot.

“You’re doing a terrible job of trying to convince me that you hate him, you know,” Raven mused.

“Again, _I don’t want to talk about it._ ”

“Whatever you say, Griffin, whatever you say.”

But Raven's lopsided smile and the winking light in her eye told a different story.  For the first time, Clarke remembered Octavia's dry "no you don't" when Clarke had insisted she hated her brother.  O had delivered the line with the bored air of someone who had said it too many times but it certainly hadn't been to Clarke.

 _Bellamy?_ her mind supplied but Clarke couldn't think like that.  She couldn't think about the Blake siblings talking about her and how Bellamy might or might not hate her.

Instead, she downed the rest of her shot and told Raven, "no Blake siblings talk for the rest of the evening.  This is a Blake free zone."

Raven grinned and lifted her glass.  "You got it, sister."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been literally a month since I updated (I come bearing the usual excuses including the fact that I've been working insane hours at work) but here have another 10k?
> 
> Most of this chapter is brought to you by the blackhole that is my 2000s pop station on Pandora.

Clarke was sprawled across the couch in her trailer when her phone rang.  Groaning, she fumbled for it, lifting it to her ear.

“Yes, Anya,” she said.

“I have your press tour information for the summer,” Anya replied in lieu of a hello.

Clarke groaned again. “Okay?”

“They’re sending you to SDCC.”

Clarke rolled upright, all fatigue from the day of shooting gone.  “ _ What?   _ I thought the CW already announced the shows they were sending.”

“Last minute addition?  I don’t know, Clarke, all I know is that Kane and the entire main cast is going.”

“Shit.”

“The CW’s being really stingy on their details for this year but I heard some buzz that that’s where the pilot’s being premiered.”

Clarke choked.

“Welcome to the big leagues, Clarke.”  There was a smile in Anya’s voice.

 

Bellamy Blake @bellblake

The @GenSuperCW cast is traveling the country to come see YOU!  First up, me and @cgriffs at #PhoenixComicCon!

 

“So, you and Blake,” Murphy said to Clarke one day between cuts and her world came crashing down around her head.

“Me and Blake what?” she asked.

“How did that happen?”

“You’ve read the papers.  We’re all over the Internet.”

He snorted.  “I don’t give a rat’s ass about what the papers say, Clarke, I want to know what  _ you  _ say.”

She turned to look at him.  “Why do you even care?”

“Because I worked with Bellamy on  _ Angel’s Fall _ .”

_ Fuck _ , Clarke thought.

NBC’s  _ Angel’s Fall  _ had gotten a solid two run season.  Bellamy had had a small recurring part but from what Clarke had seen, he’d done good work.  She’d forgotten that Murphy had had a half-season long stint as a guest star in the months after she and Bellamy worked together on their first and only other collaboration, a small indie film that had done well at Sundance,  _ Climbing the Mountain _ .

“He had nothing but  _ great _ things to say about you,” Murphy continued, a sardonic smile playing around his mouth that said he was trying to provoke her.

Clarke rolled her eyes.  “Don’t you have better things to do than interrogate me?”

He shrugged.  “I figured we were starting to get along, and I’ve been wondering.”  he looked her up and down.  “Maybe you’re just a good--”

“ _ Murphy _ ,” she snapped.

He winked at her.

“ _ Climbing the Mountain _ was a long time ago,” she said finally.  “We’re past all that bullshit.”

He gave her an incredulous look.  “I was at the table read, too, you know.”

“I didn’t say we were past the fighting.”

The look he gave her was inscrutable.  “Well, thanks for sharing.”

“You’re not welcome.”

 

Bellamy drove her home from set that afternoon.  She sat silently in the passenger seat, fingers twisting in the fabric of her cardigan.  He’d been shooting her concerned looks for fifteen minutes, occasionally opening his mouth as if he was going to ask her if she was okay before closing it again.

“Murphy came up to me today,” she told him finally.

Tension appeared in the line of Bellamy’s shoulders.

“He seems to think it’s suspicious that we’re dating out of nowhere.”

“It’s not out of nowhere,” Bellamy said stiffly.

“Isn’t it though?”

Other than the subtle tightening of his hands on the wheel he gave no indication that he’d heard her.

She held up her hand, ticking off points on her fingers.  “We work together once, get along terribly, and basically avoid each other for the next almost ten years.  Now suddenly we’re madly in love?”

“Oh, were you going for madly in love?” he asked with a wild grin. “I was getting maybe ‘besotted’ with a side of ‘teenage love.’  And you call yourself an actress?”

Clarke rolled her eyes. “Do you think we’re not selling it?”

Bellamy’s smile dropped. “We’re selling it fine, Clarke.  I haven’t seen a single rumor about us faking it.”

“Yeah, because  _ who would do that?” _ she demanded. “Like seriously, what kind of demented are we that we’re  _ faking an entire relationship?” _

“You could have said no,” he said quietly.

Clarke sank back in her seat, quieted by the silent undertones in his voice.

“But then what?” she asked finally.  “Would we just have suffered through hating each other for an entire season?  More if we get lucky?”

He looked over at her, confusion written into the space between his eyebrows.  “I thought you would have been okay with that.”

“No!” she burst out.  He startled a little.  “I mean,” she said, more quietly.  “I don’t  _ want _ to hate you.”

He didn’t say anything to that.

It was another five minutes before he said, “don’t worry, princess, you would have fallen for me anyway.”  Then, with a sideways smile, “I’m irresistible.”

 

In a bizarre twist of fate, Clarke ended up going out to dinner with Octavia and Lincoln the next night.  Bellamy was supposed to be there, it was his sister they were meeting after all, but had dropped out at the last minute, begging off on a roommate emergency.

Considering he lived with Jasper, this wasn’t an entirely unfounded or illegitimate excuse.  Nor was Clarke’s initial vision of a smoking crater where their apartment had once been unlikely.

The change in plans however, did mean that Clarke was loitering alone in her nicest semi formal dress, black with an open back, in the lobby of a posh hotel, trying not to look like she shouldn’t be there and waiting for Octavia and Lincoln.

They tripped into the lobby hand-in-hand and grinning in that stupid way you do when you’re in love, and Clarke’s heart squeezed.

She remembered feeling like that once.

Octavia hugged her tight and beamed.  “Thanks for still coming, even though Bell’s a responsibility shirker, Clarke.”

Clarke shrugged.  “Of course.”

While Octavia plowed on ahead to check on their reservation, Clarke took Lincoln’s offered hand and shook.

“Good to see you again,” he said quietly.

“You, too.”

They followed Octavia into the restaurant.

“It’s too bad that Bellamy couldn’t make it,” Lincoln added.  “Octavia was looking forward to a double date.”

Clarke swallowed down her snappy retort.  It was clear from the smile in Lincoln’s eye that Octavia had not told him Bellamy and Clarke’s relationship was a sham for publicity.  She was silently thankful.

“Roommate drama,” she said instead and he smiled.  “He lives with Jasper.  The one who asked if you could get him a discount,” she added at his questioning look.

“Ah, yes, of course.”

That was when Octavia rejoined them, smoothly fitting into Lincoln’s side, his arm coming up around her shoulders.

“Whatcha talking about?” she asked, looking between Clarke and her fiance.

“Jasper,” Clarke answered.

Realization dawned across Octavia’s face.  “Right.  Well, they said our table would be ready in a few minutes.  I’m going to find the bathroom, Clarke, would you join me?”  There was a familiar bite to Octavia’s told that said it wasn’t so much a question as a command.

Clarke rolled her eyes but followed her.

“What?” she demanded when they’d reached the inner sanctity of the women’s room.  “Oh, for Christ’s sake, Octavia,” she muttered because the other girl was in the process of checking that the other stalls were unoccupied.

Clearly they were because when she turned back around, arms crossed and foot tapping, she said, “you and my brother are in the most hotly contested celebrity relationship right now.  Forgive me if I’m being careful.”

“You didn’t tell Lincoln,” Clarke observed.

Octavia shrugged.  “I didn’t know if you’d want me to.”

“Thank you.”

“It’s your business, Clarke, as is who you tell.”

“Then what the fuck are we doing in the bathroom?”

“I want to talk to you about Bellamy.”

“Okay?”

Octavia leaned a hip against the sinks and tapped a finger on her arm.  She bit her lip and looked away, pensive.  “Usually when Bell starts dating a girl I just say, ‘don’t fuck with him or I’ll fuck you up’ and that does the trick but I think I’m going to need something else for this one.”

Clarke sighed.  “O, Bell and I aren’t actually dating, and you  _ know  _ that.  How the hell can I possibly hurt him?”

Octavia gave her an ‘oh, honey’ look.  “Please.”

Clarke frowned.

Octavia sighed loudly and grasped Clarke by the shoulders, staring straight at her.  “Look, Clarke, Bellamy likes to act like he’s above it all, la dee da, blah blah blah.  Right?  But he’s not.  He’s human, just like the rest of us, and we both know he’s a method actor, okay?  And you two are doing a great job of selling that you actually like each other but I’ve seen this happen with him before and I’m not going to watch him fall head over heels for a girl he can’t have again. Okay?”

Clarke stared at her, uncomprehending, before she burst out laughing.

“Octavia, your brother is not going to fall in love with me, that’s ridiculous.”

Octavia quirked an eyebrow. “Is it?”  She pulled away and gestured towards the door.  “But let’s go, we’ve got a dinner to get to.  I’ve heard their bruschetta is to  _ die for _ .”   
  


Clarke Griffin @cgriffs

Hey, Phoenix!  Who will @bellblake and I be seeing tomorrow?

 

San Diego Comic-Con @Comic_Con

Get ready to get your geek on, Comic-Con 2016’s final official guest list is live.

 

Gen Super CW @GenSuperCW

We’re so thrilled to be sending @MarcusKane and our main cast to @Comic-Con!  See y’all there!

 

Clarke had always liked airports.  There was something about knowing that everyone was going somewhere, about watching the masses of people with roller suitcases and towing small children moving in tandem, in an organized and yet still spontaneous madness.  This was what she was thinking, slurping thoughtfully on her caramel macchiato in the Vancouver airport when Bellamy appeared, panting slightly, next to her.

“Sorry I’m late,” he said, gasping a little around the words.  “Traffic.”

She sucked back the rest of her drink and smiled.  “No problem.”

They were being noticed already.  Or rather, Clarke had been noticed twenty minutes ago, when Bellamy was supposed to have met her at the Delta check in desk.  Instead, he’d been late so she’d gotten coffee and settled down to wait and watch.  It wasn’t long before she heard the whispers of, “that’s Clarke Griffin!” circulating around her.

Bellamy’s added presence, however, was like shaking a bottle of soda and opening it, if the look on the face of the teenage girl being tugged past them was any indication.

“Security?” he asked and she nodded.

“Security.”

Clarke longed after a day when she was famous enough to skip to the front of TSA lines but for now she had to stand in the long line, tapping her passport against her hip with one hand, the other loosely holding the handle of her roller bag.  Bellamy was a bit closer than maybe was comfortable, but there were a few too many smartphones being pointed in their direction so she leaned into it, and tried to compose her face into something serene and happy, like any girl would be at the thought of going on vacation to somewhere sunny with her boyfriend.

Kane had insisted that they stay for a few days after the event itself to “get some sun and have some fun.”  When they’d gotten drunk later that week, Raven had insisted that he was hoping the Arizona sun would mutate Clarke and Bellamy’s feelings into something real.  Clarke, who was still reeling from Octavia’s speech about Bellamy’s feelings in the bathroom, had just laughed and downed her gin and tonic.

“Have a nice flight, Miss Griffin,” the TSA agent said with a smile, handing back her passport.

Clarke smiled back and heaved her roller bag up onto the conveyor belt, reaching down in the same practiced motion to untie her shoes.

Her eyes slid over to Bellamy, the next line over.  He was shrugging out of his jacket, the lines of his shoulders obvious and defined under his shirt.  Clarke felt her mouth go dry and looked away, resolutely pushing her suitcase forward, socked feet sliding along the tile.

He was waiting for her on the other side of security and nodded to the left.  “You hungry?”

“Ate before I came.”

A grin.  “Look at you, all prepared.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Well, I’m going to go track down some snacks.  I’ll meet you at the gate?”  
She nodded.  He shouldered his backpack and made as if to walk past her before stopping, eyes sliding over her shoulder.  She saw the steel descend in his gaze before he leaned forward and pressed his lips to her cheek, quick and painless, but unexpected and shocking.

“See you in a bit, princess,” he said and then he was striding off down the hallway, melding into the crowd.

Clarke shook herself.  Cheek kisses were hardly new for them.  It was the closest they’d been willing to get to actual kissing without well,  _ actually kissing _ .  But it was usually Clarke who kissed Bellamy’s cheek and it was usually premeditated, an exchange in their eyes that said “Now?  Now.”  But that had come out of nowhere and Clarke had been wholly unprepared to be fielding Bellamy’s lips on her cheek.

_ Hardly the time _ ,  _ Griffin _ , she scolded herself before following him down the hallway.

 

Clarke had never been to Arizona but the arid dryness and flatness of Phoenix reminded her a lot of her native San Diego.

She said as much to Bellamy in the cab on the way to their hotel and he smiled out at the landscape flashing by.

“I don’t even think I know where you and O grew up,” she added when he didn’t say anything.

“She’s never told you?” There was a note of surprise in his voice.

Clarke shook her head.  “It never came up.”

“Seattle,” he said after a pause.  “On the east side of Lake Washington.”

She nodded.  “I’ve never been.”

“I think you’d like it.”

“Vancouver must feel like home to you then.”

A smile twisted his lips.  “Sometimes.”

They lapsed into silence after that but it wasn’t much farther to the hotel.  The cab pulled into the drive and stopped.  The trunk popped open and Bellamy hauled out their suitcases, dragging both of them behind him despite Clarke’s protests that she was perfectly capable of pulling her own luggage.

To keep up appearances, Kane had booked them one room.  They collected their keys and followed the signs to the elevator, Bellamy still towing Clarke’s suitcase as well as his own much to her chagrin.

“We’re going to convince the entire world that I’m a damsel who can’t even haul her own suitcase,” she complained in the elevator, more to break the tension between them than anything.

Bellamy rolled his eyes and didn’t even dignify the comment with a response.

“You’re in a friendly mood today,” she grouched as the elevator doors opened with a  _ ping _ .

“It’s been a day,” he replied, as they turned down the hallway.  “And I don’t like flying.”  He said this with an air of machismo that Clarke had come to associate with Bellamy divulging information he wasn’t proud of.

She forced herself not to respond, and instead inserted her key card into the lock for Room 703.  The door swung open.

Clarke’s jaw dropped open.

“Fucking Christ,” Bellamy swore behind her.

There was the traditional hotel furnishings in a desk and simple chair, standing lamp, dresser that was home to a television, and a pair of night stands that stood sentinel on either side of the queen bed in the center of the room.

The only bed.

Clarke’s suitcase fell out of her hand with a loud thump.  Bellamy was scrabbling ineffectually at his pocket, probably because he didn’t seem capable of tearing his eyes away from the bed.  It stared back, innocuous and innocent.

“This isn’t happening,” Clarke whispered just as Bellamy managed to pry his phone out of his pocket.

Bellamy had his phone to his ear but he was cursing.

“He’s not fucking answering,” Bellamy growled.

Clarke turned.  “Who..?”

Bellamy was halfway across the room, hand outstretched to the phone on the desk.  “Kane.  I’m going to get someone to fix this.”

He had the receiver to his ear and his finger was descending on the operator button when Clarke knocked the phone out of his hand.

“Are you insane?” she hissed.

“What?” he demanded.

“You can’t  _ do that _ .”

“Oh?  And why’s that, princess?” His tone dripped acid.  Clarke shuddered back.

“We’ve got appearances to keep up,” she snapped back.  Then, “you can sleep on the floor.”

“Maybe you can be the one sleeping on the floor,” he argued back.

Clarke scowled at him.  “I’m not the one who just threatened to blow this entire facade, Blake.  Watch your fucking temper.”  She crouched down and unzipped her bag, rooting through the top layer.  She emerged victorious with a pair of shorts and sent him a withering look.  “I’m going to be down by the pool.  Come find me later when you’re feeling less yell-y.”

“Oh, I’m feeling yell-y?” he called after her.  “That’s what you call the pot calling the kettle black, Clarke!”

She slammed the bathroom door shut and leaned back against it, pinching the bridge of her nose between two fingers.  She exhaled long and slow and opened her eyes. The bathroom was just as nice as the rest of the room, done up in warm marble with a large bath tub and separate shower.  She quickly shimmied out of her jeans and pulled on the shorts and, leaving the jeans on the floor, she banged out of the room.

 

Clarke Griffins @cgriffs

Phoenix, you’re awesome.  So is this pool.

 

Bellamy wandered down after what was probably a couple hours.  The sun was starting to set and, as was typical in deserts, the temperature was falling fast.  But Clarke was taking advantage of the scurrying vacationers and the relative silence of the poolside without the screaming children she’d been dealing with earlier.

She must have dozed off at some point because when she opened her eyes, Bellamy was sitting on the deck chair next to her, clasped hands hanging down between his knees.  His eyes were on her, cautious but open.

“Hey,” he said quietly when she noticed him.

“Hey,” she replied, struggling into a sitting position.

“I’m sorry I was a bit of a dick earlier.”   


“You know, your sister told me that occasionally you could be known to apologize but I never believed her.”

Bellamy gave her a scathing look.  “Come on, Clarke.”

“Right, sorry.”  She swung her feet off the chair so they were face to face.  “You’re forgiven. I  was a bit of an asshole to you, too, anyway.”

He nodded.  “It was stupid of me to fly off the handle like that.  It’s just unlike Kane to fuck up like this.”  He looked back at her, pleading in his eyes.

Clarke opened her mouth and closed it.   _ Maybe he didn’t fuck up _ , she wanted to say.   _ Maybe this was all part of his plan _ .  But instead she nodded and said, “It’s all right, Bellamy.  We’re both assholes and it’s not like we’re never allowed to get angry.”

“Still.  I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that.”

“It’s fine, Bellamy, really.”

He looked away and scrubbed a hand through his hair.  “I almost commented on your tweet.”

Clarke snorted.

He looked back at her, that wild light she’d become so familiar with back in his eyes.  “I was going to say something about how good the view was--”   


“Are you making an innuendo about my legs, Blake?” Clarke demanded in a scandalized whisper.

Bellamy chuckled and shook his head.  “I figured my sister would chop my balls off though.”

Clarke nodded.  “And Raven would be next in line.”

“She’d probably go for my head.”

Clarke grinned.

“Well, don’t look so thrilled by the prospect,” he admonished, sounding a bit put out.

She nudged him in the side, still smiling.  One corner of his lips turned up.

“Cheer up, you’re on vacation,” she told him.

That earned the smallest of laughs.

Clarke hooked her ankle around the deck chair next to her and nudged it closer until it came up against the backs of Bellamy’s calves.

“Sit,” she insisted.

“You’re starting to sound like my sister,” he grumbled but he sat anyway.

“She gave me some tips before we left, said that since she wasn’t going to be here to keep you in line, I should.”

He gave her an incredulous look.  “Please, tell me you’re joking.”

Clarke’s grin widened as she stretched back on the chair, lowering her sunglasses over her eyes.  “You’ll never know.”

They spent most of the rest of the afternoon and early evening out by the pool, especially once Clarke realized that the hotel restaurant delivered food and drinks poolside.

By the time she and Bellamy stumbled back to their room, only a little tipsy but a lot sun drunk, the sun had lowered deep behind the mountains and the sky had taken on that distinct orange color that Clarke associated with long summers spent at home.

“Does being here make you homesick?” Bellamy asked after a little while.

She was leaning against the windows, forehead pressed to the glass.  He was on the bed, in the process of unlacing his shoes.

“A little,” she said.

“You going to visit your family when we do SDCC?”

Clarke stiffened and didn’t answer.

The rustling noises that were Bellamy rummaging through his suitcase for pajamas stopped. “ Clarke?”

“Why do you ask?” she managed, voice a bit stiff.

“They still live there, don’t they?”   


“Yes.”

“So it’s a logical question.”   


Clarke looked over her shoulder at him.  He was staring at her, inquisitive and confused.

“My mom and I had a falling out six years ago,” she said finally after she’d turned back to look at the sky.  “We don’t talk much anymore.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry.”

“I thought Octavia would have told you.”

“You know, she’s remarkably good at guarding secrets.”  There was a fond smile in his voice.  Despite herself, Clarke found her own face echoing it.

“She doesn’t approve of...this.”  Clarke gestured to herself.

“Clarke,” Bellamy said quietly.

She turned around.  He’d backed onto the bed and was leaning towards her, hands clasped between her knees.  “I’m sorry.”

She shrugged.  “From what I’ve heard, you and O don’t have the greatest mom either.”

_ “Didn’t _ ,” he corrected.  “She’s dead.” He said it matter of factly, easily.

Clarke nodded. “Right.”

“C’mere,” he said finally.  “Sit the fuck down, you look like you’re going to jump out the window.”

Clarke laughed.

“And I don’t want to explain that one to Kane.”

“I’m sure Raven would be able to dream up a number of plausible scenarios.”

“You had me until you said ‘plausible.’”

She crossed the room and slid into the center of the bed, knees curled up to her chest.

“What doesn’t your mom approve of?  You’re successful, you’re doing well, as far as I can tell you’re happy?”

She nodded slowly.  Then stopped and fixed him in a straight stare.  “You know being my fake boyfriend doesn’t mean you have to be my therapist, right?”

Bellamy let out a long hiss of air that she was eternally familiar with.  It was one of Octavia’s favorite “you’re pissing me the fuck off, you giant idiot” moves and the familiarity caused a warm burst of  _ something _ in Clarke’s chest.

“For God’s sake, Clarke, I’m not doing this as your fake boyfriend or your long suffering co-star.  I’m asking as your friend.”

“Are we friends?”

“You are one of the most mentally fucked up people I’ve ever met,” he observed after a pause and Clarke choked on her laugh.  “Jesus, Clarke, yes, we’re friends.”

“Oh,” she said quietly.

“You’re the one who said you didn’t want to hate me,” he said quietly.

She chewed on her lip.  “When I said she doesn’t approve of me, I meant it.”

When he met her gaze there were questions burning in his eyes but he left them unspoken.

“She doesn’t like that I chose acting over any of the more reputable career choices she would have preferred.  She doesn’t like that I’m relatively open with my personal life.  But most of all, she doesn’t like that I like girls.”

“She wanted you to be straight,” Bellamy said quietly.

“Or at least pretend to be.”  Clarke grimaced.  “I brought my first girlfriend home when I was fifteen.  We were together for three months.  The entire time good old mom referred to her as ‘my friend.’  Needless to say when I brought home a boy it was ‘oh, and this is Clarke’s boyfriend!’ to anyone who would listen.”  

Clarke shook her head.  “She hated Lexa.”

Bellamy laughed.  “I’ll bet.”

“And I’ll bet she’s still waiting for the phone call when I tell her being bi was just a phase.”

“I’m sorry, Clarke,” he said quietly.

“What was your mom’s damage?” she asked quickly.

Bellamy shrugged.  “She was just a terrible parent.  O’s dad left and then she fell apart.  Couldn’t handle it, I guess.  Raising two kids on her own.”

“So you did it instead.  What?” she demanded at his shocked look.  “All of Octavia’s friends know that you practically raised her.”

Bellamy blushed.  “Anyone would have done the same thing.”

Clarke shook her head slowly.

“She’s my  _ sister _ .  She’s my  _ family _ .”

“Not everyone has your upstart morals.”

“I’m sorry, was that a compliment?”

She just smiled.

“Thank you.”

“I neither confirm nor deny.”

He rolled his eyes.  “I take it back, I don’t want to be your friend, you’re impossible.”

“Right, and you’re difficult enough for the both of us.”  She slid off the bed and crouched next to her suitcase.  “I’m going to shower.”

Bellamy reached for the remote and waved it tantalizingly.  “Aren’t you worried about what I’ll be watching when you come out?”

Now it was Clarke’s turn to roll her eyes.

It was a valid concern, she thought as the rinsed the shampoo out of her hair.  But for some reason, the idea of walking back into the main room to the view of Bellamy sprawled across the bed intensely absorbed in a documentary about use of aqueducts in ancient Rome or the feudal system of medieval Europe wasn’t as cringeworthy as it might have been a month ago.  In fact, she thought as she dried her hair with a towel, she might have even been hoping for it.

He was wearing a faded and worn American University t-shirt and pair of pajama shorts patterned with superhero logos, sitting on the edge of the bed when she emerged.  His eyes flicked up to hers and he offered a small smile that she returned.

“I didn’t know what side of the bed you wanted,” he said, gesturing, heat burning high in his cheeks, hot enough to show through his dark complexion and heavy dusting of freckles.

Clarke’s stomach did a small gymnastics routine as she felt her own blush coming on.  “I don’t care,” she said, hiding her face as she reached for her hairbrush.

He slid back on the side of the bed farthest from her, fluffing the pillows.  On the TV, a commercial for a History Channel docu-series was playing.

“I’m sorry to report that it’s not horrendously boring,” he said when he caught her looking.

The end of commercial title cards flashed back on screen and Clarke bit back her laugh.

“ _ America’s Book of Secrets?   _ Really?”

He shrugged. “What can I say, I got addicted to conspiracy shows in college and now I can’t stop.”

She climbed up onto her side of the bed.

“This one’s about all these secret bunkers that are supposedly hidden under government property.”

“I do love a good bunker,” Clarke observed.

Bellamy chuckled and shifted a bit closer.  His arm brushed hers.

“Glad to hear it.”

She settled lower on the pillow.  “Thanks for listening,” she said after a while.

She heard his head turn on the pillow.  “Anytime.”  Then, “You know, Clarke...Octavia’s not the only Blake who’s good at keeping secrets.”

She smiled.  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

 

Clarke had been to her fair share of comic cons and other events during her career but none of them had ever been like this.  She and Bellamy were set up with a nicely sized booth and given a stack of pens each.  Sitting on the table in front of them were three piles of posters for  _ Gen Super _ \--the promotional character posters that had gone live at the Upfronts.  Clarke remembered the shoot.  She and Bellamy had spent 95% of it glaring at each other and the other 5% grudgingly standing side-by-side in a show of camaraderie for the cameras.  The result, she observed now, wasn’t half bad.  There was a devilish smirk on Bellamy’s lips that spoke something of danger, or a hidden agenda, and the red of Clarke’s leather jacket stood out proudly against his inky black of his button down.

“What are we going to do if they ask us about our relationship?”  Bellamy whispered into her ear.

Clarke froze.  “Wing it?”

A disparaging look.

“Play coy, then,” she suggested.  “it’s still new.  And co-star romances tend to fizzle out when there’s too much public speculation.”  She paused.  “You’ve always kept your relationships firmly in your private life, anyway, it won’t be too much of a stretch.”

“You haven’t,” he said darkly but it wasn’t a reprimand so much as a comment.

She shrugged.  “Then I guess that shows how crazy I am about you.”

Bellamy snorted but she thought she saw him chewing on the inside of his cheek to keep a smile off his lips.

“You got a deal, princess.”

 

bellamysblcke:

So I met Clarke Griffin and Bellamy Blake at Phoenix Comic-Con today and let me tell you guys, they are some of the most humble, down-to-earth, and delightful people I’ve ever had the chance to meet.  And @everyone who’s been shitting on their relationship: fuck you.  I haven’t seen a look like that on a man’s face since my step-sister walked down the aisle at her wedding.

#clarkegriffin #bellamyblake #bellarke #phoenixcc #gensuper

 

Bellamy Blake @bellblake

Thanks, Phoenix, for the amazing turnout today.  You guys are incredible.  Love, clarke (and bell)

 

clarkegriffindaily:

New stills of Clarke and boyfriend, Bellamy Blake, at Phoenix Comic Con on June 4, 2016 in Phoenix, AZ.

#clarkegriffinedit #bellamyblakeedit #bellarke #phoenixcc

 

Somehow the airport was easier to brave after the event.  Maybe it was the fact that Clarke felt rested.  Maybe it was the fact that she and Bellamy hadn’t had a real argument since their debate over the bed crisis.  Maybe it was because they were going into production on the last few episodes of  _ Gen Super _ and they were the scripts that Clarke was most excited about.  Whatever, the reason, she found it easier to brush off the lingering stares and whispers behind hands as she and Bellamy strode through the terminal of Phoenix’s airport, fingers casually interlocked.

Hand holding was something that they’d grown used to in the months since their fake relationship had started.  Bellamy had nice hands, Clarke had decided early on.  Large enough to surround hers but not big enough to feel suffocating.  Never clammy but warm.  They were hands she felt comfortable with, hands that she had put literally her entire career and future livelihood into without a second glance.

His fingers squeezed his and a burst of affection bloomed in her chest.

They were headed back to Vancouver and would start shooting again the next day but first there was a long two hour layover in Seattle.

The weather, Clarke observed, as she stood next to one of the floor-to-ceiling windows of the international terminal, was remarkably like Vancouver’s.  It was almost July but the sky was still overcast and gray.  A plane hurtled down the runway and lifted off in a smooth motion.  Clarke’s eyes tracked it as it grew smaller and smaller, rising into the sky until she could no longer see it.

“I got you a magazine,” Bellamy’s voice said, quiet.

She jumped and turned.  He was standing behind her, looking a little sheepish, a copy of the most recent  _ Scientific American _ in his hand.

“O told me you like this one,” he said, scrubbing a hand through his hair. There were pink spots high on his cheek.

“Thank you,” she said, taking it, eyes already greedily taking in the cover.

He nodded, took a small step back, converse kicking against the floor.  “I didn’t know how into science-y stuff you were.”

She grinned at him.  “I was a bio major in college.”

His eyes widened.  “And you took up acting?”

She shrugged.  “We can’t choose what we love.”

His eyes searched her face, smile falling.  “Very true,” he said softly and turned away, hands shoved deep into his pockets.  There was a shadow across his face that hadn’t been there earlier.  Clarke felt her stomach fall at the sight of it.

She knocked her shoulder against his.  “Hey, you okay?”

“Fine.”  She got a small bitten-off smile.

“You want a coffee or something?”

“Does ‘or something’ mean it won’t be Starbucks?”

She snorted.  “You’re in Starbucks-land, buddy.”

“I think I saw something else over by the escalators.  I can--”

“No, no, I offered.  And you bought me a magazine.”  She waved it in his face.  “These things aren’t cheap you know.”

His cheeks colored again.  “I do know. I bought the damn thing.”

She grinned. His face was bright and open again, laughter twinkling in his eye.

“What do you want?  Latte?”   


“Please.”

She nodded and leaned down to tuck the magazine into the pocket of her carryon.  “Watch my stuff for me?”

“Of course.”

She turned to go but he caught her around the upper arm.

“Clarke?”

She turned back to look at him quizzically.

“Thanks.”

“Of course, Bell.”

It wasn’t until she was halfway up the line at the not-Starbucks coffee stand that she realized it was the first time she’d used the nickname to his face.

 

“So how was your romantic getaway?” Raven asked, voice dripping with sarcasm and maybe one too many beers.  “Did you lie out under the stars at night?  Get couples massages?  Eat food off the same plate?”

Clarke rolled her eyes.  “For God’s sake.”

“Not all of us are getting laid, Clarkey, give me a break.”

“For your information, not that I need to tell you this, by the way,  _ I am not getting laid _ .”

“Well, that’s your own fault.”

Clarke sighed and fell back on her couch cushions.  “I’m sorry but my decision making skills are much better than yours were in 2007.”

“Congratulations,” Raven said simply.

“He bought me a magazine,” Clarke told the ceiling softly.  “In the airport.  A  _ Scientific American. _ ”

Rustling noises followed.  Raven’s foot brushed her leg.  When Clarke forced herself to look at her, Raven’s eyes could have cut steel.

“Octavia told him?”

“No one knows I read those except you and me, Rae,” Clarke said quietly.

“And Bellamy.”

“You didn’t tell him?”

Raven scoffed.  “And admit that my best friend is a science nerd?  Please.  I have an image to maintain.”

Clarke laughed.

“He must have gone snooping.”  Clarke looked at her questioningly.  “All those times he’s been at your apartment?  Surely you weren’t watching him every second.”

“No,” Clarke admitted.

Raven touched her shoulder carefully.  “He cares.”

“I could have told you that,” Clarke snapped back.  “He wouldn’t still be doing this if he didn’t at least a little.”

“No,” Raven said seriously.  “He cares  _ a lot _ .  About  _ you. _ ”

Clarke looked over at her.

“Don’t throw that away, Clarke.”

“I’m not going to date him!”

“I’m not asking you to.”  Raven looked away, swallowed quickly.  “I’m asking you to be careful with how you treat him.”

“Bellamy’s not a piece of glass.”

“No,” Raven allowed.  “But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have a breaking point.  No matter what he wants you to believe.”

 

Clarke confronted Bellamy about the magazine two days later.  They were in between takes of an intense argument between their two characters.  Marcus had been calling it the start of their “really amazing relationship” arc for the last week but refused to tell Clarke or Bellamy what he and the writers room meant by that.  The makeup team had finished fussing over the fake blood on Clarke’s face, remnants from the failed showdown her character had had with the season’s big bad.  They were filming that scene tomorrow.

Bellamy shook out his arms and looked over at the episode’s director, who was locked in a furious conversation with Kane.

“Why did you get me the magazine?” Clarke blurted.

She hadn’t meant to bring it up.  She had meant to put it out of her mind, simply cherish the idea that Bellamy Blake had snooped through her stuff while she wasn’t looking and cared enough to remember what he’d seen.

He froze.  “O told me you liked that one,” he managed.

“Octavia doesn’t know I read  _ Scientific American _ .”

The color drained out of Bellamy’s face.  “Then it must have been someone else--”

“Only Raven knows.  And she swears she didn’t tell.”

“Clarke, I--”

“I’m not angry, Bell.”  The nickname slipped out again and he jerked in surprise.  “I just...want to understand.”

“I saw it on your bookshelf one day,” he admitted quietly.  “You were in the kitchen getting food or something, I don’t remember.  I paged through it because I thought it was strange that you’d have a science magazine.  Not that you’re not smart or anything but…” he trailed off, looking a bit panicked.

Clarke looked away and smiled.

“And I saw all these notes in the margins.  And things underlined.  And it stuck with me.  I was in Hudson News in the airport and I saw it and...well, I thought you might like to read something.”

Clarke studied him.  “I’m touched.”

He rolled his eyes.  “I was bound to figure out your dirty laundry eventually, Griffin, don’t look so surprised.”

She grinned.  “I’m not ashamed.”

“Then why doesn’t anyone know?”

She shrugged.  “I don’t know.  Maybe it’s because...it’s one piece of my life that I can keep separate from all of this.” She waved a hand, encompassing the soundstage, the bustle of the set, the mass of crew.

Bellamy seemed to consider that and then nodded.  “I can understand that.”  He chewed on his lip for a minute.  “Thank you for sharing that piece of your life with me.”

“You ever really want to see what that piece of my life looks like, I’ll dig up my notes from undergrad.”

“Now now, there’s no reason to go overboard.”

“Clarke!  Bellamy!”  They looked over.  Marcus had removed himself from the conversation with the director to stare at them.  “We’re not paying you to stand around, let’s go!”

“Duty calls,” Clarke said, maybe a bit regretfully.

Bellamy winked.  Clarke felt her cheeks flush just the slightest bit.

 

Octavia finally managed to rope Bellamy into a dinner double date the week after they came back from Arizona.

Clarke went over to O and Lincoln’s apartment early under the guise of helping cook dinner but instead, she found Octavia sprawled across the couch in her pajamas scrolling through her Netflix queue, Lincoln perched on an impossibly small piece of sofa behind her dressed in pressed pants and a button down.

Clarke froze in the doorway, keys hanging in her hand.  “Hello?”

Lincoln offered her a quick but warm smile and Octavia threw out an offhand, “oh, hey, Clarke.”

“I’m not that early am I?”

“I ordered Chinese,” Octavia replied, turning her attention back to the TV.

Clarke snorted and crossed the room to the couch.  She shoved Octavia’s feet out of the way and sat.  O promptly slung her feet back over Clarke’s lap.  Clarke rolled her eyes.

“Where’s my brother?”   


“You know, contrary to popular belief, dating does not actually make us the same person.”

“Could have fooled me.”  There was something serious under Octavia’s teasing tone.  Clarke looked over to find her staring intently right at her.

Clarke rolled her eyes.  “Whatever.  He’ll be here later.  For a dinner that we both assumed was going to be an actual dinner.”

Octavia prodded her in the side with a toe. “Come on, Clarke, you know me better than that.”

This was true.  In all of the years that Clarke had known Octavia Blake, she’d never seen her make anything more complicated than oatmeal.  Maybe a grilled cheese once when she was desperate.

“Then why didn’t we just go out again?”

“Bell insisted.”  Octavia sighed.  “He’s like 90, I swear.”  She took on a wavering accent, “in my day, Octavia, we never left the sweet embrace of the homestead for such petty things as meals.”

Clarke snorted.

“I ordered that weird Chinese broccoli shit just for you,” Octavia said after a pause, her face twisting like it pained her just to mention it.

“You’re truly a trailblazer, Octavia Blake,” Clarke said drily.  She looked at Lincoln, who had been silent since Clarke walked in the door, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Shit, I just realized you’re marrying one of my best friends and I don’t even know what your last name is.”

He laughed.  “Woods.”

Clarke rolled it across her tongue.  “Going from one end of the alphabet to the other,” she said to Octavia.

“I’m thinking about hyphenating,” Octavia replied loftily.

“It’d sound fucking ridiculous,” Bellamy’s voice said from the doorway.

“You need a haircut,” she snapped back.

His grin was wide and blinding.  Clarke felt herself reeling.   


“I like it,” she found herself saying before the thought even fully formed.

Bellamy’s smile widened slightly as it took on a shy tinge.

“ _ Gross _ ,” Octavia muttered.

“Octavia,” Lincoln chastised.

She rolled her eyes.

“You invited us.  Anyway, it’s not like we don’t have to watch you hang all over your fiance, all night,” Clarke shot back.

“Seeing me happy and engaged brings you nothing but joy, Griffin, don’t deny it.”  With a wet smack, Octavia kissed Lincoln’s cheek and swung off the couch.  “Bellamy, you’re on table setting duty.  Clarke, help him.”

She disappeared around the corner in the direction of her bedroom, hopefully to track down a more dinner-appropriate pair of clothes than the sweatpants and ripped tank top she was wearing.  Smiling bemusedly, Lincoln reached for the remote and turned off the TV.

“You’re a brave man,” Clarke told him after she heard Octavia’s door close.

“Maybe,” he replied.  “But I think we all are.”  His eyes shifted to Bellamy.  “Your boyfriend included.”

Bellamy cleared his throat loudly.  “How about those dishes, Clarke?”

Clarke forced her smile off her face and followed him into the small alcove off Octavia’s kitchen.  Four place mats were already sitting ready on the table in front of the chairs and the cabinet containing plates and glasses was already open.

Bellamy muttered something under his breath that sounded like, “typical.”

Clarke smiled.

“You know she just ordered Chinese food, right?” she asked him after he deposited the plates into her waiting hands and went to retrieve the cutlery.

“I figured.  Octavia is many things, but a chef is not one of them.”

“What about Lincoln?”

“He can make a mean barbecue.”

“I expect proof.”

He offered a wide grin.  “I’m sure that can be arranged.”

Clarke gestured to the living room.  Bellamy held up a finger and stuck his head through the archway.

“Gone,” he mouthed.

“She hasn’t told him,” she said immediately, but quietly in case either Lincoln or Octavia could hear.  She knew firsthand how thin the apartment’s walls were.

Bellamy chewed on his lip, straightening the placement of a fork.  “I like to think I raised her better than that.”

“I’m sure you did but...I can’t help but think that it’s not fair.  Making her lie to him like this.”

“We’re lying to him, too.  We’re lying to the whole goddamn world.”

Clarke’s stomach twisted.  “But that’s our choice, we did this.”

“Are you saying I should have lied to my sister, Clarke?”

She let out a frustrated huff.  “No, of course not!  I just...is this worth it?”

He looked at her for a long moment.  “If it wasn’t for this whole situation, for Kane asking us to do this…” he trailed off, thinking over his next words.  “Would we be standing here like this?  As friends?  As people who legitimately enjoy each other’s company?”

That struck Clarke dumb.

“I don’t think we would be,” Bellamy continued.  “And the thought of that makes me sad.”

She swallowed.  “Me, too,” she managed.

Bellamy’s stare stayed on her, a beat past too long.  “I’m glad,” he said finally.

 

Octavia Blake @octaviasablake

Dinner with the babes! @lincolnswoods @bellblake @cgriffs

 

June trundled towards its conclusion and so did filming.  The days were getting longer and Clarke found herself spending more and more time on set, even when she didn’t have to be there.  They’d gotten their final scripts, for the two part finale, three days prior, and started shooting in a few days.  The undisputably cliffhanger ending had the cast and crew both alive with buzz over the possibility of a second season.  Clarke didn’t want to let herself hope.

“Just  _ think  _ about it,” Raven implored her one day.

She’d acquiesced to helping Clarke run lines for one of the scenes she was having particular trouble with but seemed more interested in daydreaming than actually working.

In response, Clarke threw her script in Raven’s face.

There was a knock on the door of the trailer.

“Come in!” Clarke yelled, taking a sip of her water.  “Hey, Bell would you tell Rave--”  She turned then froze.

But it wasn’t Bellamy standing awkwardly on the first step of her trailer.  She bolted out of her seat.  “Oh, my god, hi!”

“Hey, Clarke,” Wells Jaha said, wide smile splitting his face.  “Long time no see.”

 

TVLine.com @TVLine

@GenSuperCW adds @wellsyjahaha and @Gina_Martin for undisclosed guest roles.  Finale shooting to begin Monday.

 

The entire cast celebrated their last day of filming season one with what Jasper not-so-delicately described as “a rager to end all ragers.”  In defense of the party, it wasn’t really a rager (and Clarke would know, she’d been to quite a few in college), but that didn’t mean it wasn’t wild.

Everyone was drunk within forty-five minutes of kick-off, Miller and Murphy were in a fight by the hour and a half mark, Monty was waxing poetically about “his dark eyes” in the corner and everyone was pretending to not know who he meant, Harper and one of the girls who’d guest starred in a couple episodes were making out on the couch, and Bellamy was locked in a passionate discussion about something historical Clarke couldn’t follow with Gina Martin.

“You look like you’re having fun,” Miller said from her right, having clearly extricated himself from the the Murphy situation.

Clarke toasted him with her cup and took a long drink.

“He squinted.  “Are you just drinking vodka now?”

“Go big or go home,” she replied somberly.

He laughed.  He leaned back against the counter next to her and nudged her shoulder lightly.  “You look jealous.”

“I’m not,” she answered immediately, probably a bit too sharp.

Miller gave her a considering look.  “If you say so.”

“I’m not jealous.”

“You know they dated for a while, right?”

“Everyone does.”

“I don’t say it to make you worry,” he added, concern coloring his voice.

She looked over.  “I know.  Thank you.”  She looked away.  “But you should probably go save Monty from himself, he’s over there with just Jasper.”

Miller heaved a long sigh.  “That man is a menace.”  He clapped her on the shoulder.  “Stay sharp, Clarke.”

She was turning back to her study of Bellamy and Gina, telling herself that the angry curl in her stomach was  _ not jealously dammit _ when she heard Monty’s delighted, “Nate!” from behind her.

She took another sip of her drink and grimaced.  The worst part was that Clarke really liked Gina.  Despite the fact that she was a late addition and had only been on set for the finale, she’d fit well into the group, somehow finding something to connect with every member of the cast by the end of the second day.  She was friendly and genuine and talented, a combination that was oftentimes hard to come by in the industry.

And it wasn’t even like Clarke was ignorant to her and Bellamy’s shared history.  They’d dated for a while when Bellamy first had broken into the industry--she’d been a series regular on a show that Bellamy had worked on and had dated for almost three years before they broke it off on reportedly friendly terms.  Their professional lives hadn’t intersected much but pictures of them at awards shows on the red carpet together circulated every awards season and she’d taken him as a date to the premiere of her first major film.

Clarke watched Bellamy’s smile flit across his face, the real one he used to reserve just for Octavia and now occasionally made an appearance for Clarke and felt a stab of envy.  It was unfounded, she knew.  Bellamy was entitled to friends and exes and being friends with his exes.  Maybe if all of Clarke’s relationships hadn’t crashed and burned so decidedly she might even be friends with some of hers.

_ How would Bellamy feel about that, though? _

The thought was through her mind, running across her thoughts like a ticker board before she could quench it.

_ He wouldn’t care _ , she decided.

Besides, it wasn’t even like they were actually dating.

 

TMZ @TMZ

Is #bellarke on the rocks?  An undisclosed source reports that Bellamy Blake’s feelings for old flame Gina Martin may not yet be extinguished.

 

thedoctorsrose:

Look, I don’t care what you say about Gina Martin, or how great she is or any of that shit.  She’s fucking with my real life OTP and that ain’t cool.

 

thedoctorsrose:

toinflnity replied to your post “Look, I don’t care what you say…”: s he and bellamy are literally just friends calm tf down

idk if they’re just friends she needs to  _ STEP O F F _

 

_ “CG: It’s got this really fun sci-fi vibe to it but it’s not 100% up in the clouds like you sometimes get with superhero stories, there’s still this gritty realness to it that I think keeps it firmly grounded.  Plus, the cast is honestly phenomenal.  Every one of them has just been a true delight and honor to work with, whether they be part of the main or recurring casts or a guest star.  Going to work every day was just a ball.  And they’re all just so talented. _

_ BF: Does that have anything to do with your budding romance with Bellamy Blake? _

_ CG: Can you even call it budding anymore?  We’ve been together a few months now.  But yeah, that’s great, too.  Bellamy’s an amazing artist and a fantastic performer.  Every scene I get to do with him is especially great.  Our characters have a really amazing journey this season, both together and apart and I’m really excited to share that with viewers. _

_ BF: Word on the street is that the pilot for  _ Gen Super _ is going to be premiering at SDCC.  Can you confirm or deny that? _

_ CG: I was given explicit instructions by my boss [showrunner Marcus Kane] not to talk about SDCC.  So I can do neither. _

_ BF: Well, what can you tell us about the show that’s not giving too much away? _

_ CG: It’s great and you’re going to love it? [she laughs] No, for real: we really tried to play with the teen and superhero genres with this one so you’ve got this really cool blend.  The characters are actually real people and the relationships they have are actually real relationships.  And the CGI’s pretty good?” _

_ (Let’s Talk Shop: Clarke Griffin on  _ Gen Super. _ BuzzFeed. Web. _ )

 

Gina texted Clarke three days after the party.  It was an innocuous  _ want to get lunch today or tomorrow? _ with a smiley after it.

Clarke stared at it over her morning oatmeal, eyes still blurry with sleep and mind full of Bellamy’s smile.  She hadn’t seen him in a few days--Octavia had dragged him off to Sun Valley for “sibling bonding” but he’d been texting her nonstop about how he’d forgotten how difficult living with Octavia was, how people needed to learn how to teach their children to behave in public, questioning why women like pedicures so much  _ (seriously, the foot scrubbing?  what the fuck is enjoyable about that, Clarke) _ , and sending her snapchats of his food.

Every time her phone lit up with his name, it made her smile a little. The first few times it had happened, she’d cursed herself for how attached she’d let herself get to him.  After Lexa, she’d told herself she’d become the ice bitch that she’d never been able to be--overcome the media’s nasty image of her, prove she was above throwing food on people, and stay out of a relationship for a long time.  She’d achieved two of the three.

She still ached for the idea of March, when  _ Gen Super’s _ first season would be over and she wouldn’t have to keep up the charade of dating Bellamy anymore but not for the reason that she originally had.  It wasn’t because she never wanted to socialize with Bellamy outside of set ever again or preferably not at all.  It was because she wanted to do that too much, without lies or barriers between them.  She wanted to be his friend, plain and simple, and have dinner with him and Octavia and get drunk with him at bars, and let him pet her cat when he came over and go places with him without worrying about whether or not they were close enough or whether or not they should be holding hands for the paparazzi.

_ Today sounds great _ , she finally texted back to Gina.   _ What time/where? _

 

“I just want all our cards out on the table,” Gina told her as soon as they’d handed their menus over to their waiter.

Clarke nearly choked on her water.  “What cards?”

“Bellamy.”

Clarke felt her heart sink.  “Right.  Bellamy.”

“I’m sure you know we...dated for a while.”

“A long while,” Clarke added.

Gina grimaced.  “Yeah.”

“He dated my best friend, too,” Clarke pointed out.  “Seriously,” she continued when Gina’s frown didn’t disappear.  “It’s fine.”

“But he and Raven were something a bit different than he and I were,” Gina told her.  She leaned across the table.  “This isn’t really common knowledge and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t share or tell Bellamy that I told you but...we were talking about getting married.  Before we called it quits.”

“Oh.”  Clarke felt like Gina had thrown her water in her face.

“Yeah.”

“So?”

“So I just wanted to talk to you and make sure you got the whole story.  Shit like that gets out eventually and I wanted you to hear it from one of us.”

“So why not make Bellamy tell me?”

Gina smiled.  “I like you, Clarke, and I wanted you to hear it from me.  After all, I was the one who called it off.”

“I thought it was both of you.”

She shook her head.  “No, it was me.  I was happy but we were so young and I was an idiot, I didn’t really know what I had.  At first the idea of getting married was dazzling.  I was in love with him and I thought,  _ yes, yes I want that _ .”  She took a sip of her water.  “But I got scared.  And I didn’t know how to tell him what I wanted.  So I broke up with him instead.”

“Do you regret it?”

Gina chewed on her lip.  “Sometimes.”

Clarke waited.

“But I’ve seen the life that Bellamy has had after we split up and the life that I’ve had and I don’t think we would have made it.”

“Do you still have feelings for him?”

Gina’s lips curved into the smallest of smiles.

“I just-”

“Want to cover your bases, I know, it’s okay.  No, I don’t.  And he sure as hell doesn’t have feelings for me.”

“And you know that because?”

“Because he was ready to marry me but he never looked at me the way he looks at you when he thinks no one’s looking.”

Again, Clarke is speechless.  Gina gives her a knowing smile.

“Bellamy Blake has a habit of making us girls a bit dumb,” she says.  “He did it to me, he did it to other girls, and I guarantee he did it to Raven.  Don’t let him do it to you.  He deserves someone who can keep their head around him.”   


Clarke remembered Raven’s long ago comment:  _ he smiles at you all wide and dimple-y and the next thing you know you’re waking up in his bed. _

“The power of the freckles,” Clarke hears herself saying.

Gina laughed.  “I like that.”

They lapsed into silence.

“I really liked working with you, Clarke,” Gina says later after their food came.  “I’ve always admired your work from afar and I’m glad to learn that you’re a lovely person as well as an amazing actress.  Even if we don’t work together again in the future--”  _ if we don’t get a second season _ , Clarke’s mind supplied “--I’d like to stay in touch.”

Clarke stuck her hand out over the table.  “Friends,” she said simply and Gina’s smile was wide and dazzling.

 

On July 20th Clarke got into Bellamy’s car with him, Murphy, and Miller.  Behind them, Monty was driving Harper, Raven, and Jasper.  After a stop at a gas station for snacks, they merged onto I-5 South for the three hour trek down to San Diego.  SDCC was the next day and  _ Gen Super _ had a panel on the first day followed by the world premiere of the pilot the next evening.  Clarke’s nerves were buzzing and Bellamy’s hands started visibly shaking a bit on the wheel, try as he might to hide it, as they started passing under signs for La Jolla.  Even Murphy’s usual calm emotionless mask was cracking.

Marcus met them in the hotel parking lot, wearing a button-up short sleeve and cargo shorts, the most dressed down Clarke had ever seen him.  He was beaming, and clapped each of them on the back when they stepped out of the car, on decidedly shaky feet.

“You did it, kids,” he said.  “You made it to fucking SDCC.”

Of course, he’d been here before for  _ Arkadia _ and a handful of movies he’d helped write before he’d made the trek over to the small screen.

They were already checked in and he handed them their room keys as they crossed the parking lot.  They were paired up in twos: Clarke with Bellamy, Raven with Harper, Monty with Jasper, and Miller with Murphy.  Marcus himself was just down the hall.  In the elevator he told them to get a good night sleep, stay out of the minibar, and that each pair was only allowed to charge one pay-per-view item to room or he’d be hearing from an angry someone from the CW’s accounting department.

From the window of her and Bellamy’s room, Clarke could see the long arching lines of the San Diego Convention Center.  Her knees felt weak.

“I can’t believe it,” she told the night.

She felt Bellamy come up behind her, a form of body heat, a  _ presence _ , she’d become intimately familiar with.  His hand ghosted across the small of her back and she leaned into it.

“You’re going to kill it, princess,” he whispered, inches from her ear.  Goosebumps erupted down her arms.

“We’re going to kill it,” she corrected.

She heard his grin in his huff of laughter.

“You want room service?”

She turned away from the window to see that he’d already picked up the menu and was paging through it.

“What’s the most expensive?” she asked, sidling up behind him and pushing up on her tiptoes to read over his shoulder.

“Surf and turf.”

“A hotel with  _ surf and turf?” _

“Oh, to be rich and famous,” he said drily

She snorted. “I’ll take a burger and fries.  No tomato.”

He nodded.  “Find something for us to watch?”

She adopted a face of mock surprise.  “You’re going to let me pick our  _ one _ pay-per-view?  What if it’s something  _ girly?” _ she asked in a stage whisper.

The grin he threw her was wide and open, honest.  “I trust you.  Anyway, it can’t be any worse than the time Octavia made me marathon  _ My Little Pony  _ with her every weekend for a month.”

“That sounds like a challenge.”

He laughed.  “By all means,” he told her and gestured to the bed.

_ The one bed _ , Clarke thought as she sprawled across it.

Somehow the thought didn’t scare her nearly as much as it had in Phoenix.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly I don't know why I always make the Blakes from Seattle, it just happens, I swear.
> 
> Come find me on [Tumblr!](http://andrevvminyard.tumblr.com%22)
> 
> And let me know in the comments what you thought of the update! Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the long gap between the last chapter and this one! My real world, non-Internet life has been a bit crazy lately (and is probably going to continue to be) but I hope you all enjoy the chapter!

Clarke Griffin woke up on day one of San Diego Comic-Con with the heat of another body pressed into her back and Bellamy Blake’s arm thrown over her torso, holding her fast.  It wasn’t how they’d fallen asleep last night, each of them militantly on their side of the bed, too nervous of crossing an invisible line that even casual shifts in position made them both tense.

It was, however, not unwelcome.  Bellamy smelled like laundry detergent and something that reminded Clarke of Octavia, and his breath was ruffling the hair at her temple in a delightfully intimate way that Clarke hadn’t realized she’d missed.

This hadn’t happened in Arizona.  Or, that was to say it had once, but they’d both rocketed out of bed when they’d realized it and had never spoken of it again.  Bellamy’s arm around her waist didn’t necessarily feel coupley.  It didn’t feel like the first few times Clarke had woken up wrapped around Lexa, or one of her other significant others.  It didn’t have that requisite awkwardness, the “oh, shit, did I do something wrong?” feeling that settled in her stomach while she waited for the other person to wake up and either pull her closer or push her away.  No, waking up with Bellamy’s arm around her waist felt natural, easy, right.

So Clarke let herself lie there, warmed by the rays of sun reaching in through the window and Bellamy’s body heat, after a brief glance at the alarm clock blinking away on the bedside table.  It was barely 6:30--her nerves had woken her up early and they had plenty of time before they were supposed to meet Marcus and the rest of the cast for breakfast at 7:30.

It didn’t feel like long before Bellamy stirred next to her.  She turned her head to see his eyelashes fluttering open, dark and long against his tan skin.

She’d never noticed how long his eyelashes were before, how hadn’t she noticed?

The moment he realized their positions was apparent.  His eyes, which before had been soft with sleep, hardened, as his arm stiffened around her.

“Morning,” Clarke said to him, trying to keep the quaver out of her voice.

His arm relaxed as he yawned.  “Hey.”

“Sleep well?”

“Sure, when you weren’t hogging all the covers.”

Clarke darted a look down to the foot of the bed.  The sheets and comforter were perfectly settled between the two of them.

When she looked back up, Bellamy was grinning.  “Made you look.”

She whacked his arm and pushed up and away, stretching the crick in her back.

“You ready to face the madhouse?” Bellamy asked.

“As I’ll ever be.”

 

Clarke Griffin @cgriffs

Feelin’ good, ready to talk some Gen Super!

 

TVLine.com @TVLine

@Comic_Con’s day one lineup: the CW’s freshman drama #GenSuper and more.

 

“This is insane,” Murphy muttered as they were led through the twisting backstage of the San Diego Convention Center.

There were people everywhere, and even to Clarke, who had spent the majority of the last ten years on a set, there was an uncomfortably hectic tinge to the air.  As they approached the door that would lead them onto the stage for their panel, Clarke found herself unconsciously reaching for Bellamy’s hand.

His fingers twined around hers easily, calloused and familiar, and he squeezed tightly enough that she knew he was just as nervous.  Clarke pretended not to notice the knowing look that Raven shot her way as she squeezed back.

The radio attached to the belt of their assigned panel leader crackled.  She pressed her ear piece in deeper and nodded.  She turned to them and held up three fingers then yanked open the door and strode onto the stage.  The roar of the crowd was audible through the opening before it slammed shut, effectively cutting it off.

“Insane,” Miller repeated, his voice sounding a bit faint.

“You guys are going to do great,” Kane assured them.  “You’ve all been to cons before, you know how this goes.”

At some point in this short exchange, another assistant holding a walkie appeared.  “You’re on in a minute, starting with you, Mr. Kane,” she said, pointing at him.  She stepped up to the door and heaved it open.  “They’ll say your name and then go on in and take a seat.”

“First we’ll start with the man behind the magic, showrunner and executive producer, Marcus Kane!”

Applause rang out through the auditorium as Kane flashed his cast one last smile before stepping through the open doorway.  Clarke saw him raise a hand in acknowledgment.  The crowd only yelled louder.

“And you haven’t seen her yet but you know her name, ladies and gentlemen, playing Lena, Clarke Griffin!”

Bellamy squeezed her hand one last time as the crowd roared.  Clarke plastered her publicity smile on her face and stepped out onto stage.  Kane was grinning at her and the panel moderator nodded at her as she passed.  She slid into her seat carefully and folded her hands onto the table.

“And next, the small screen’s golden boy, playing Gabriel, Bellamy Blake!”

The audience erupted as Bellamy appeared on the stage, the wide smile Clarke recognized as his publicity face, making an appearance.  The fingers of his left hand briefly brushed across her shoulders in a move invisible to all but her and Kane as he took his seat.

“Crazy, huh?” he asked, voice falsely bright as he scooted in his chair.

Clarke turned to look at him.  The edges of his smile softened into a real one and she smiled back as the panel moderator announced Raven.

The crowd finally settled when the rest of the cast was seated.

“All right, then let’s get started shall we?” the moderator asked.

Clarke’s fingers clenched under the table on her knees.  Bellamy’s warm hand stole over her knuckles, tracing slightly.  “Just breathe,” she heard him whisper.  “I’m right here.”

 

_ “Okay, so first off, let’s talk about the premise of this show. Because people with superpowers is something we’ve seen before with  _ Heroes _ or the Marvel universe.  What makes  _ Gen Super  _ different from everything we’ve seen before? _

Marcus Kane (MK): One of the things I really wanted to do when I started thinking about the project that would eventually become  _ Gen Super _ was bring in some realism elements that I think you’re missing a lot of the time when you’re looking at superheroes or super powers.  It can be easy to forget that you’re watching or reading about real people.  They kind of take on this godlike status, which immediately drives a divide between the audience and the characters.  I wanted the opposite. I want our audience to be able to look at these characters and see themselves in them.  And I think that’s going to be the biggest difference that audiences are going to see with this show.  At least I hope.

 

_ But then I’m sure talking about making your characters realistic and actually bringing that realism to the screen are two entirely different things.  Clarke, how did you approach that? _

Clarke Griffin (CG): I’m going to be honest here and say that when I first read this pilot I was so far from interested.  And the only reason I went to the audition was because my agent literally threatened to murder me if I didn’t. (she laughs) And I think really that’s because I took it at face value.  I read it and I saw just another teen drama about special kids and I thought  _ ‘why the hell would I want to do this?’ _ but I reread the pilot before I went to the audition with a bit more of an open mind and Lena in particular really just jumped out at me in a way I hadn’t noticed before.  And I did start looking at her as a  _ person _ as opposed to just a character.  And as soon as I started thinking about her like that it was so much easier to slip into her and become her.  All of us on this stage have the true honor of working with an amazing team of writers who breathed so much life into these characters that as actors, it was so easy to step into their skins and bring them to life.

 

_ The CW has been keeping this show under wraps amazingly well.  We’ve really seen nothing about it other than the trailer that was released at the Upfronts back in June and the character posters that have been popping up at cons.  And I want to address this question to the whole cast: without giving too much away how would you all describe the premise of this show? _

CG: College kids learn how to navigate life.

Bellamy Blake (BB): Only my character can walk through walls and Clarke’s could light you on fire if you screw her over on the group project for English.

Monty Green (MG): More than anything we’re trying to show what life looks like in college.

Nathan Miller (NM):  But it’s way better than anything I ever did in college.

CG: (laughing)  _ Way _ better.

Raven Reyes (RR): It’s scifi for people who hate scifi and love scifi.  It’s scifi for everyone.

John Murphy (JM): And it’s a thousand times better than any CW show you’ve ever seen before, I promise.

 

_ I do love the sound of scifi for everyone.  And from what I’ve seen in some of the promo materials, you guys are really trying to reach out to a wide range of audiences.  Do you want to talk a little about that? _

MK: Well, we live in a diverse world now.  Which is why when we were casting this show, we were looking for whoever could do the role best.  We didn’t write any of these characters to be a particular race and, in fact a lot of them had some scenes and backstory rewritten after they were cast.  Raven’s character, Iris, has a strong Latina background, we’ll be hearing Andrew, Monty’s character, speak Korean on more than one occasion, we have Gabriel talking about his difficulty in being a white-passing man of color.  We’re not pulling any of that color blind nonsense that seems to have become so popular these days on television and in movies.  I’m proud to have a cast that’s diverse and I want them to be able to show off their differences and their diversity to hopefully help foster a connection between audience members who don’t usually see themselves represented on screen and these characters."

( _ Highlights from the  _ Gen Super _ Comic-Con Panel _ . Hypable. Web.)

 

TMZ @TMZ

Clarke Griffin and Bellamy Blake deny rifts in young relationship: “we’re happier than ever.”

 

Even though she was partly terrified of the attention, Clarke’s favorite part of cons had always been autograph signings and meet and greets with fans.  There was something in the pure excitement on the faces of the people who came up to shake her hand and gush about how much they loved her work that served as an amazing reminder of why she loved her job.

Bellamy, Clarke, Raven, and Miller, who were considered the show’s four mains, were given their own table, draped with a Warner Bros. cloth, each surrounded by a massive stack of character posters.  An even line of thick black Sharpies waited to the right of the piles.

The panel had been relatively seamless.  The energy and chemistry that the cast always had on and off set had bled into their interactions in the auditorium, making the conversation easy.  And the audience’s response had been uplifting: Clarke had never been in a room with so many people who were enthusiastic about the questions she and her costars were being asked and their responses.  The attention had almost been intoxicating.

The line for their signing was longer than Clarke or the organizers had been expecting.  Originally, they’d set up four lines, one in front of each of them, but that devolved into chaos quickly as fans tried to cut between them, protesting they wanted all four of the cast members’ signatures on posters and didn’t want to wait in four separate lines.  In response, they were herded into one long line that snaked past the table, conversing one after the other with each of the four of them.  Clarke made it her personal mission to look each of them in the eye and personally thank them for coming even if, after a while, her voice was fading and her arm hurt from shaking so many hands, but the wide grins of the fans made it worth it.

Her biggest shock came forty-five minutes into the signing when she looked up and came face-to-face with a girl, probably no more than eighteen, dressed in Lena’s red jacket, gray tank top, and black skinny jeans.  Her smile was cautious.  Clarke just stared for a minute.  She was familiar with cosplay and she’d seen more than her fair share of it.  But she’d never seen someone cosplay one of her own characters.

“Hi,” the girl said quietly.

Clarke smiled slowly.  “Nice jacket.”

The girl blushed.  “It took me a month to find it.”

Clarke picked up a Sharpie and looked back up at the girl expectantly.  “What’s your name?”

“Caitlin.”

Clarke leaned down over a poster and scribbled her message.   _ That jacket looks bomb on you _ , she added as an afterthought before handing it over.  “Thank you so much for coming, Caitlin, I really appreciate your support.”

The girl blushed deeper and took the poster. “Thanks, Clarke.”

She moved down the line to Bellamy and Clarke watched as her cheeks turned pink again and she ducked her head as she told him her name.  Clarke grinned.  This was why she did this job.

“Hi,” she said to the next person, Sharpie already in hand, “what’s your name?”

 

Lunch was surreal.  The event planners had cordoned off a massive banquet hall type room and set up buffet tables for the exhibitors.  Clarke and Raven stood in line for salad behind Ian Somerhalder.  Ten feet away, Misha Collins was engaged in an intense-looking conversation with Shonda Rhimes.

Clarke turned to Raven, eyes wide.

“This is insane,” she mouthed, echoing Murphy from earlier.

Clarke accepted the salad tongs from Ian Somerhalder and said  _ thank you _ quiet enough that he wouldn’t notice when she tripped over the syllables.

“How is he even hotter in person?” Raven demanded to know when they were a safe distance away and nearing the table Monty and Bellamy had staked out.

“Who’s hotter in person?” Miller asked, appearing out of nowhere behind them.

“Ian Somerhalder,” Clarke said.

“You saw---  _ holy shit _ .”

“I washed my hands next to Jennifer Morrison in the bathroom earlier,” Harper said solemnly.  “I almost sprayed soap all over her.  She laughed.  It was awkward.”

Monty snorted.

Kane chose that moment to throw himself into the seat next to Clarke and beam around at all of them.  “So?  You kids having fun?”

“Sure in the moments when I don’t feel like I’m going to throw up,” Murphy said into his mashed potatoes.

Kane just grinned.  “You’re all doing great.  Just the individual interviews and then we’re off until tomorrow night for the premiere.”

“Right, because the idea of walking a high-profile red carpet in front of a bunch of  _ really famous _ people is going to be a piece of cake,” Monty muttered.

“ _ You’re _ famous.  You got invited to  _ fucking  _ Comic Con and filled one of the convention center’s biggest convention halls for a show that hasn’t even premiered yet.  They love you, the entertainment world is going to love you, and I’m so proud of each of you.”

Silence around the table.  Even Murphy was blushing a little bit.

“You lot are going to go into those interviews this afternoon and you’re going to kill them and tomorrow night you’re going to kill the red carpet.  All right?”

“Yes, sir,” Murphy said, trying for bland but failing.

“Good.  Now eat, you all need it.”

 

_ “It’s the nerdiest time of the year, aka 2016 Comic Con and TVLine had the opportunity to sit down with the four headliners of the CW’s upcoming show _ Gen Super, _ due to premiere on October 5th at 9 PM.  Here’s what they had to say about their experiences working on the show and with each other. _

 

_ TVLine: You implied during the general panel earlier today that  _ Gen Super _ is never where you saw yourself going career-wise.  Where did you see yourself and why did you end up deciding to take this opportunity anyway? _

Clarke Griffin: Well, I think when I first came out to Los Angeles I imagined my career the way that most young actors do--being successful, getting ‘discovered’, whatever that even means these days, and turning into the next blockbuster star.  I think it quickly became obvious that that wasn’t the way it was going to go for me. But once I started making a bit of a name for myself, I wanted to do projects that spoke to me and meant something to me.  But I hit a few very...public...road blocks along the way and made some decisions that jeopardized my career and I really wasn’t in a place that allowed me to be picky when  _ Gen Super _ came along.  I’m honestly ashamed to admit that I was up on this high horse and I wasn’t able to see what an amazing opportunity this show really is.  I only went to the audition because my agent literally threatened me with bodily harm.  But working on this show with this incredible cast has been one of the most rewarding experiences of my career so far and I’m so proud of what we’ve made together and I’m so excited to share it with the world.

_ TVLine: What was it about this particular show that made it so rewarding for you? _

Clarke: Well, first this cast is absolutely phenomenal.  Just so talented and funny and sweet.  It’s been a long time since I worked with a cast that was primarily my age and I loved going out on weekends with them and just hanging out in someone’s living room playing the GameCube Bellamy’s sister dug out of his closet or some other dumb thing like that.  We’ve grown into this giant family that supports each other both when we’re working and when we’re not and many of us developed a real world chemistry that blended over into the show and our characters.

 

_ TVLine: We’ve seen remarkably little about the characters for this show and I want to talk about that for a moment, if you can.  In particular your character, Gabriel, what can you tell us about him? _

Bellamy Blake: Personally I really enjoyed the characters that we were all given to work with on this show.  I know Marcus [Kane, showrunner and executive producer] mentioned it during the general panel, but the writers really put in an effort to tailor these characters to us as people.  Gabriel knows a bit of Tagalog, for instance, which isn’t something that I have ever gotten to bring to a role before, my Filipino heritage which is something I’m extremely proud of but am often told to tamp down.  Beyond that, both Clarke and Marcus talked about how real these characters are and that was one of the biggest things for me when I first read the pilot script when it was doing its rounds.  Gabriel is a real person.  He’s someone that I could meet on the street, pass in a coffee shop.  He’s got real problems and real relationships and that really made playing him a treat because it let me tap into these emotions and stores of creative energy that I’ve never tried to access before.

_ TVLine: I told myself going into this interview that I wasn’t going to bring it up but you did so let’s talk about Clarke. _

Bellamy: [laughs] All right, yeah, let’s talk about Clarke.

_ TVLine: I’m sure everyone has been asking you about the process of transitioning from that very well-documented rivalry to a romantic relationship but what I’m more curious about is what it was like to work with your girlfriend in such a close capacity. _

Bellamy: Yeah, I mean, the relationship that develops between Clarke’s character Lena and Gabriel meant that she and I did a lot of scenes together and we were spending a lot of time together and I really got to know her in a way that I hadn’t before?  She honestly amazes me every day, Clarke is so incredibly talented and working with her is a true treat.  As for working with my girlfriend, that’s something I’ve done before in the past.  At first it’s kind of weird, but since  _ Gen Super _ was in production before Clarke and I started dating, it was just a bit of a paradigm shift.  Like, oh I’m allowed to touch you in front of the crew now and I can say ‘I love you’ or something.  It’s also nice to not have to explain the bizarre hours you’re working when your significant other is working them too.

 

_ TVLine: You’ve spoken a handful of times about how this is your favorite project you’ve worked on so far in your career.  Why is that? _

Raven Reyes: Simply put I don’t get a lot of opportunities like  _ Gen Super _ .  Honestly, when my manager called me and said I’ve got Marcus Kane on the other line and he wants you for a leading role on his new pilot I started laughing.  I actually hung up on my manager because I didn’t believe him.  When most people look at me they see Hot Latina #4 and I really have to fight tooth and nail to get things that have any substance to them.  As a woman in Hollywood it’s still incredibly difficult to get roles that challenge you as a performer but this show did.  I did some crazy shi-- stuff on this show, I’m telling you, and I loved every minute of it.

 

_ TVLine: So you’re new to television, right? _

Nathan Miller: Yes, this is actually my first television role.  I’ve worked exclusively in film before this.

_ TVLine: What was it about this project that made you decide to jump ship? _

Nathan: There was a lot of buzz going around about it, I remember I was in my agent’s office and this is at the agency that also reps Clarke, so I heard a couple people talking in the hallway and I caught Clarke’s name and Marcus’ and then the name of the show and I asked my agent what it was about and he said ‘oh, it’s television, you wouldn’t be interested.’ But I pushed it and he gave me the pilot and I read it in like an hour in a coffee shop and called him back and said I want on this.  Choosing roles for me comes down to what I see in the characters and the project as a whole and I saw a lot of heart in  _ Gen Super _ and I saw a writer who wanted to make something real about an age group that often gets skipped over.  We get a lot of stuff about high schoolers and then there’s a lot of stuff about people who are fresh out of college and 20-somethings, but college itself often gets glossed over.  It’s such an important part of so many people’s lives, and in  _ Gen Super _ I saw characters who were navigating real world issues and I really connected with that.  I wanted to be a part of it.”

(Gen Super  _ at Comic Con 2016: SciFi with Heart _ ? TVLine. Web.)

 

Marcus set them loose after the interview rounds and they were allowed, for the first time, into the cavernous exhibition hall.  Miller split off to go find Monty and Raven dragged Clarke and Bellamy into the fray in search of Carrie Fisher. Clarke let her tow her through the crowds and marveled at the pure opulence of it.  A massive space, filled with tables, faces she’d never thought she’d see in real life, and so many fans.

She leaned over and whispered to Bellamy, “there’s a lot of us here.”

That got his attention.  “What?”

She pointed out three separate couples within a close distance, all dressed like they were in their promo shoot.

“We haven’t even aired anything yet,” he protested.

“Right, I forgot, you’re new to the whole fandom thing.”  She smiled and knocked his shoulder.

“Take it as a compliment, Blake,” Raven shot over her shoulder. “Personally I wouldn’t dress up as you if you offered me a million dollars.”

Bellamy rolled his eyes and slid an arm around Clarke’s shoulders.  “Like you’d ever make a convincing me.”

“You’re right.  My ego isn’t the size of Mars.”

Clarke snorted and stumbled, stepping on someone’s foot.  She turned, hands raised and half her apology was out of her mouth before she realized it was the girl from the signing, still wearing her Lena cosplay but now holding the hand of a man that made such a convincing Gabriel that if, she hadn’t spent months becoming intimately familiar with the angles of Bellamy’s figure, he might have fooled her.

“Caitlin?” she asked.

The girl flushed a deep pink.  “You remembered my name?”

“Of course.”

Bellamy’s hand slipped down to her waist as he stopped and pivoted. Raven cast one last look over her shoulder before waving and plunging back into the crowd.  Bellamy rolled his eyes again but smiled at Caitlin in the next breath.  “Hey, there again.”

“Hi, uh, this is my boyfriend, Adrian.” She gestured to the guy next to her.

“Pleasure,” Clarke said, holding her hand out to him.  He shook it, then turned to Bellamy.

“I saw you at the panel,” Bellamy said as he shook his hand.  “You were right on the aisle.”

The guy’s eyebrows went up in shock.  “I, uh, yeah, I was.  You must have eyesight like a hawk or something.”

“Or something,” Clarke said with a grin.

“Superpowers, maybe?” Caitlin suggested.

“Hey, you know, I should pitch that to Marcus for if we ever get a season two,” Bellamy said to Clarke.  “Giving Gabriel superhuman eyesight.”

“Oh, if the viewer turnout is anything close to your online following, you’re golden,” Caitlin told them.

Bellamy and Clarke looked at each other.  “Our online following?”

“Well, I mean the show kind of blew up on Tumblr but you guys in particular have a massive following.”  She gestured to the crowded event hall. “Why do you think there are so many Gabrena cosplays?”

“Gabre--” Clarke stomped on his foot.

“Well, Bell and I should probably go find Raven before she hurts someone,” Clarke said.

“Is that a common occurrence?” the boyfriend asked.

“Oh, you’d be surprised,” Bellamy muttered.

Caitlin grinned.  “I don’t want to keep you guys, but do you think...could we get a picture?”  
“Oh, my god yeah, of course.”  Clarke looked around and waved at a teenager who happened to be looking their way.  “Hey! Hey, could you take a picture?”

The girl wandered over, looking bored but accepted Caitlin’s phone with no complaints as Clarke and Bellamy flanked Caitlin and Adrian.  The girl took a picture and handed the phone back. Caitlin checked it and beamed.

“It’s amazing, thank you so much.”

Clarke back but Bellamy beat her to the punch.  “Not a problem.  Thanks for talking to us, guys, and I hope you enjoy the show.”

They smiled one last time then Clarke tugged Bellamy back into the crowd.

“That’s our life now, isn’t it?” Bellamy whispered when they were far enough away.

Clarke nodded.  “Yeah, I guess it is.  There are worse things.”

“Yeah, no, I--” he paused.  “I’m not saying I minded.  It’s just weird.”

“And apparently we’re really popular on the Internet.”

He shuddered.  “Seriously, why.”

“Don’t tell your sister.”

“Oh, I’m sure she’s already more than aware,” he muttered darkly.

She laughed.  “I was serious about finding Raven though.  If she hits someone, Marcus is going to blame me.”

“She’s not going to hit someone.” But Bellamy didn’t sound nearly sure enough.

 

Gen Super CW Retweeted

Caitlin Hughe @caitthegreat

I just met @cgriffs and @bellblake at SDCC and they’re so nicer? #bestdayofmylife #bellarkelives

 

The cast wandered back to the hotel in small groups and by seven they were all sprawled across Raven and Harper’s room, trays of room service on the floor and the TV remote in Clarke’s hand.

“I swear to God, if you make me watch some dumb romcom,” Murphy grouched from the corner as Raven tried to pry the remote out of Clarke’s hands and Monty, of all people, advocated for  _ Sex & the City _ .

“Okay, the lot of you, shut up!” Harper finally yelled as Bellamy twisted Raven’s hand away from the remote.  “I think Clarke, as our leading lady, should be allowed to choose the channel.”

“Okay, well, if I knew this was the prize for landing that role, I would have tried a lot harder in the audition,” Miller said.

Clarke handed the remote over to Bellamy.  “It’s too much responsibility!  I can’t do it!”

He accepted the remote and clicked over to an  _ X-Men  _ movie.  “What do you think, guys, scope out the competition?”

“I could look at Michael Fassbender all  _ fucking night _ ,” Raven said from Clarke’s other side.

“So it is,” he said and clicked. 

“I was on a bus with James McAvoy in London once,” Harper observed as the opening credits played.

“What?” Everyone turned to her.

She shrugged. “He’s like really short in person.”

Murphy snorted.

“Jesus help me,” Miller muttered, “if I get famous one day and all anyone has to say about it is that I’m  _ short in person _ .”

Harper threw something at him.  “Don’t be rude.”

“It’s in his DNA,” Monty replied.

“Right, like you’d know, you’re the only one he’s nice to.”

Monty turned a delicate shade of red.

“That’s not true, I’m nice to Clarke.”

“That’s just because being mean to Clarke is a surefire way to get yourself pushed out a window.”  Clarke glared at Murphy.  “See?” he asked, gesturing.  “Case in point.”

“Bellamy’s mean to her all the fucking time,” Raven added, sly grin on her face.

“That’s because my massive ego won’t fit out a window,” he retorted, grinning right back.  She punched him.

Clarke smiled and snuggled deeper into Bellamy’s side.  His arm went around her immediately, a learned habit. She rested her head on his shoulder and his head come down to rest on hers.

“Fucking gross,” Murphy muttered but Clarke paid him no mind.

Raven reached down to squeeze her forearm, a show of solidarity, as Bellamy’s breath ruffled across her forehead.  She might have taken a roundabout way of getting here but in that moment she felt more certain than ever.  This was where she was supposed to be.

  
  


“I forgot how uncomfortable tuxes are,” Murphy grouched, tugging at the collar of his shirt.

“Well, at least there aren’t six cans of hairspray in your hair,” Raven shot back.  “I”m going to have to take nine showers tonight and that might not even get it all out.”

“Would it kill the lot of you to stop complaining for point-five seconds?” Miller snapped back.

“Oh, chill it, Nate,” Clarke said.  “They’re stressed.”

“We haven’t all been to a fancy premiere party before, bucko,” Murphy told him.

“I missed the part where that’s my problem.”

“ _ Nathan _ ,” Monty hissed.

Clarke grinned at Miller’s abashed look.

Their limo pulled up to the venue.  Crowds waited on both sides of a thick red carpet and paparazzi clustered around the street.  Waiting.  Already they were hitching up their cameras, preparing for their departure from the limo.

Clarke waited for Miller, who was closest to the door to get out but he was looking at Clarke and Bellamy expectantly.  “Lovebirds, you want to go first?”

Clarke felt her cheeks heat.  Raven snicked.  Bellamy put a hand in the middle of her back and nudged.  “After you, princess,” he whispered, low enough for only her to hear it.

Her cheeks flushed redder and she ducked, trying to hide it.  Judging from how Miller was elbowing Raven, she hadn’t succeeded. Nevertheless, she crawled over Murphy’s legs and over Monty’s lap to the door, Bellamy right behind her.

“I”m going to need you to budge the fuck over first,” she hissed at Miller and he obligingly shifted, right into Monty’s lap, who blushed harder than Clarke had been.

“And we’re the lovebirds, are we?” she heard Bellamy mutter as she opened the door and stepped out.

The crowd roared and Clarke felt a massive grin form across her face.

 

gensuperdaily:

The cast of _Gen Super_ attends the show’s series premiere at San Diego Comic-Con in San Diego, California.

#gen super cw #clarke griffin #bellamy blake #nathan miller #monty green #john murphy #jasper jordan #harper mcintyre

 

Variety @Variety

The CW’s @gensupercw premieres at @Comic-Con to rave critical and fan reviews.

 

mel @melmelmel

I can’t say much because I’m pretty sure the CW would take my soul but HOLY SHIT Y’ALL GEN SUPER

 

“ _If you’ve been paying attention at all this this year’s pilot season you’ve probably heard something about The CW’s new drama_ Gen Super, _starring Clarke Griffin,_ _Bellamy Blake_ , _Nathan Miller, Raven Reyes, John Murphy, and Monty Green, from the Emmy-winning executive producer of_ Arkadia _, Marcus Kane.  If you haven’t heard of it, then you need to crawl out from under whatever rock you’re hiding under come October  5th at 9 PM and watch this show._

_ Last night an audience of fans and critics, including myself, were the first to see the pilot episode of  _ Gen Super _ at San Diego Comic-Con and let me tell you, folks, all the hype you’ve been hearing about this show, despite the stranglehold the CW has been keeping on details, is well-deserved.  SDCC’s  _ Gen Super _ panel concentrated on the show’s inception and how its showrunner and writers have been trying to differentiate it from the superhero-inundated media we’ve been seeing lately, namely by creating real and relatable characters that television’s modern and diverse audience will be able to relate to.  And boy, did they succeed. _

_ This starts with the main cast which, especially for a show on a major network, is incredibly diverse.  Four of the six members of the main cast are racial minorities (Blake, Reyes, Miller, and Green) and two are out members of the LGBTQIA community (Griffin has spoken publicly about her bisexuality and Miller came out as gay just over two years ago).  Kane promised at the  _ Gen Super  _ Comic-Con panel that the actors would be allowed to express their backgrounds in the show and he certainly didn’t shy away from that in the pilot. _

_ As an Asian-American twenty-something, I’ve often had a hard time identifying with the characters on television that are supposed to represent me.  But I found  _ Gen Super’s  _ pilot refreshing and new.  I never got the feeling that the show’s non-white characters were written as non-racial roles that then went to a racial minority. Iris (played by Reyes) has a strong Latina background and Andrew (played by Green) speaks at one point about during an orientation event about the difficulties he’s faced growing up as an Asian man in a middle-class white suburb. It all felt very autobiographical and, after hearing from the actors about how much input they were allowed into the development of their characters’ backgrounds, it feels like a safe bet to say that it was. _

Gen Super  _ is the story of a group of college kids who, among the usual homework and frat parties, also struggle with their newly developed super powers, courtesy a set of mutated genes. The stakes are high and the pilot never lets you forget it but it’s not all serious all the time.  Instead, we get a look at these kids’ daily lives as they meet, and start to become friends and establish rivalries, all against the backdrop of the conspiracy that gave them their powers in the first place--a mystery that promises to play out throughout the rest of the first season. _

_ At the center of this show are the powerhouses of Clarke Griffin and Bellamy Blake.  We’ve seen them act together and we’ve seen them act apart but we’ve never seen them act like this.  It’s been almost ten years since they starred together in  _ Climbing the Mountain  _ and it’s safe to say that their talents have only improved with age.  Their off-screen rivalry and the relationship that developed between them in the early weeks of filming is evident here as their characters Lena and Gabriel establish a working partnership that’s nothing if not rough around the edges and promising plenty of drama for future episodes.  Kane and the CW certainly got their hands on some of today’s best young talent and it really shows--they deliver their lines with finesse and show an easy familiarity with their characters’ inner workings that you usually wouldn’t expect to see until halfway through a first season. _

_ Moral of the story is, if the rest of the season is as good as the pilot,  _ Gen Super  _ is going to be one of the best shows on television this season. It’s diverse, it’s well-written, it’s well-acted, and none of you have any excuse not to tune in. _

(“ _ So  _ Gen Super  _ Is Actually Going to be Really Great? _ ” BuzzFeed, Print.)

  
  


“You read the newest crop of reviews yet?” Octavia asked over dinner a week after they returned from San Diego.

Clarke shook her head.  “No, I’ve been too busy fending off the Internet trolls that want to date your brother.”

Octavia snorted. “Then it’s a miracle you have any spare time at all.”

Clarke rolled her eyes.

“This one’s calling your chemistry ‘explosive.’”

“God, I hate the Internet.” Clarke threw herself onto Octavia’s couch.

“Careful, Bell’s due back any second.”

“Oh, I’m sure he’ll sympathize,” Clarke deadpanned.

“Sympathize with what?” Bellamy asked.

Clarke started.  “Jesus, I didn’t even hear you come in.”

“Octavia’s developed the nasty habit of keeping her door unlocked.”

Octavia punched him in the arm. “Lincoln’s terrifying enough to scare everyone away.”

“As your older brother--”

“It’s your civic duty to remind me not to get killed when my fiance’s not home, yeah yeah.” She gave him a long-suffering look. “You’re like a broken record, Bell.”

“What can I say you’ve exhausted my five vocal options.”

“Clarke, control your boyfriend, he’s pissing me off.”

“You’re the one that’s related to him.”

“Yeah, so I don’t have a choice but to hang out with him.  You do and for some ridiculous reason, you decided to date him.”

“I mean,” Clarke allowed. “He is  _ really _ hot.”

“God!  I’m going to go dig out a takeout menu for dinner.  You guys have a preference?”

She disappeared in the direction of her kitchen before they had the chance to respond.

Clarke turned to find Bellamy grinning at her.

“What?” she demanded.

“I’m really hot, huh?” he teased.

“Oh shut up.”

“For the record,” he whispered, leaning in, “I think you’re really hot, too.”

Clarke’s cheeks flushed.   _ It’s all just a game, Griffin,  _ she told herself.   _ Control yourself, you’re not sixteen anymore _ .

But Bellamy’s wild grin didn’t look like a game.  It looked like a man smiling at a girl that he liked.  And  _ that  _ was exactly the kind of language Clarke needed to get out of her head.

“Octavia was telling me about the early reviews before you came in,” Clarke said, mostly to steer the conversation into safer waters.

He hummed.  She knew that he recognized her tactless change of subject but, because he was Bellamy, he didn’t comment on it.  But that wasn’t right, Clarke thought, because she Bellamy she’d clashed with at the table read would have mentioned it.  He would have said,  _ what princess, I make you nervous?  _ and she would have scoffed, maybe hit him, and stormed off.  Instead, he let her change the subject and kept smiling.  The thought made her heart twist painfully in her chest.

“I hear we’re once again causing quite a stir on the Internet,” he replied.  “Raven keeps sending me lines out of context that are honestly kind of…”

“Risque?” she suggested.

“That’s one word for it.”

She smiled. “Risque is one of Raven’s areas of expertise.”

“Really,” Bellamy said dryly, “I hadn’t noticed.”

“Stop making eyes at each other and get in here,” Octavia yelled from the kitchen.

Clarke found her smile widening a bit more. Bellamy’s eyes studied her face for just a moment longer before he said, “Yes, ma’am, and pushed off the couch.”

Clarke followed him.

 

August and the first half of September flew past faster than Clarke wanted.  It felt like one minute she was standing on the red carpet of  _ Gen Super _ ’s SDCC premiere and the next it was September 20th and the show was premiering in just over two weeks.

Reviews for the first three episodes had started appearing in most of Hollywood’s premiere critics magazines and the reviews were glowing.

“I honestly can’t believe it,” she told Raven a week before the premiere.

They were at some tiny hole-in-the-wall taqueria that Raven raved about, and Clarke had had just enough margaritas to be feeling candid.

“Like he’s a dick, right?”

Raven rolled her eyes. “Clarke, babe, I know you’re going through like some kind of internal crisis but I really don’t want to talk about this with you right now.”

“Aren’t girls supposed to want to talk about their best friends’ relationship problems?

“Yes,” Raven hedged, “but that’s not what this is.  This is you wanting me to validate your opinions about Bellamy so you don’t feel bad about having them.”  
Clarke gaped.

“I stand by what I’ve always said.  Bellamy cares a lot about you and you care a lot about him.  I’m not quite sure why he’s sitting on his hands but I know why you are.”

“Oh? And why’s that?”  
Raven knocked back the rest of her margarita.  “Because you’re scared.  You loved Lexa, you gave your heart to her, and she ripped it into pieces.  And now you care about Bellamy more than you ever wanted to or thought you would.  And you know that he has the ability to rip your heart into pieces again.  And you know, somewhere deep down, that it could be worse than with Lexa.”

Clarke stared down at the table.  “I’m not in love with Bellamy, Rae.”

“No, I know.  But you could be.”

“I didn’t even think we could ever be friends,” Clarke said quietly. “And yet here we are.  I...I trust him.  And maybe I lied, maybe I do love him.  Like I love you, like I love O.”

Raven nodded.  “There’s the truth.” She flagged down the bartender.  “Could you get my friend here a tequila shot?”

“I don’t need--”

“Come on, Clarke, live a little.”

“That’s what got me into the whole Lexa mess,” Clarke grumbled.

“And it’s what’s going to get you out of this massive emotional slump you’re in.” Raven paused. “You were happy at SDCC, Clarke, and you’re happy around Bellamy.  Let yourself be happy, you’ve fucking earned it.”

Clarke stared at the shot in front of her.

“We’re fucking starring on what’s expected to be the CW’s highest grossing show this season behind all that weird superhero stuff and  _ Supernatural.   _ We’re stars now, Clarke.”  She leaned in closer. “And you are dating one of the hottest guys in Hollywood.”

Clarke raised her shot.  “Cheers.”

“Cheers to you, bitch,” Raven agreed and Clarke downed it.

 

Octavia Blake @octaviasablake

We’re going to be live tweeting the premiere tonight, who’s with us!?! @cgriffs @bellblake

 

Hollywood Reporter @THR

@GenSuperCW premieres to strong numbers and rave reviews.

 

Bellamy Blake @bellblake

Thank you everyone who tuned in to Gen Super tonight. We’re all in awe of your love and support.

 

Clarke Griffin @cgriffs

Thanks for watching with us tonight, y’all, and thanks for the incredible support.

 

Clarke Griffin @cgriffs

Gen Super has been a labor of love for all of us and we’re so glad you enjoyed it.

 

clarksgriffins:

I know we’ve only seen the premiere but like, seriously, can I have all of Gen Super right now because I don’t think I can wait until next week for another 45 minutes

vvylanvaneck:

Seriously what business does a goddamn CW show have being that good that quickly I feel attacked.

#gen super #same honestly it was so good? #wednesdays at 9 are officially my favorite time of the week

 

Variety @Variety

@GenSuperCW’s first season already certified fresh at 93%.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Drop me a comment here or over on Tumblr if you liked the chapter!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is again where I say I'm so sorry for the late delay in posting this? But happy holidays to all of you lovely people who are still reading, and I hope you like the chapter!

TVLine.com @TVLine  
New #GenSuper photos: Lena and Gabriel finally team up, Iris plays third wheel.

 

Variety @Variety  
Ratings: #TheFlash dips, #GenSuper soars, and the CW leads the night.

 

If there was one thing that Clarke unequivocally hated about living in Los Angeles it was the traffic.  There were other things that, if you caught her at the right time, she might be able to rail on about for a while but the traffic, that was one thing that she really wished would burn in hell.

She was thinking all of this as she sat in her boiling hot car (her A/C was broken.   _Again_.) on a packed boulevard, surrounded by what felt like the entire city and most of its extended family. Naturally, she knew that wasn’t right. They’d never all fit.

She contemplated texting Anya and yelling at her for making Clarke drive all the way out to Santa Monica in rush hour but she knew that wouldn’t help anything.  If she was nice enough to her manager, Anya might offer to spot her a hundred bucks to fix the air conditioning and honestly that ranked much higher on Clarke’s list of priorities than the catharsis getting angry would give her.  Especially when she could flip off the asshole in the shiny BMW next to her that kept sliding into her lane.

Anya worked at a tiny boutique management company a couple blocks off the highway in Santa Monica and Clarke finally breathed a sigh of relief when she pulled into the parking lot. Hopefully this meeting would go long enough that Clarke could hang out in Anya’s office until most of rush hour had abated.

Anya was waiting for her in the lobby and Clarke silently followed her into her office.  It was similarly decorated to her apartment, in some kind of weird spartan, minimalist style that Clarke, who was hardly a packrat, could barely understand.  There was a single framed picture of Anya’s niece on the desk but other than that, you’d have sworn no one had occupied the office for months.

Anya folded herself into her chair behind the desk and Clarke sat across from her.

“How was traffic?”

“Atrocious.”

Anya smiled. “I think you’ll find this is worth your while.” She turned her computer screen around and Clarke saw Anya’s inbox open to a file labelled with her name.  Inside were probably about ten emails. Clarke leaned closer.  Some of those names rang a distant bell in her mind.

“I’ve been getting these since a couple weeks after _Gen Super_ premiered.  Just like I predicted.”

“What are they?”

“Agents repping directors and producers who want you in their developing projects.”

Clarke stared at Anya, wide eyed.  Anya just kept smiling.

“These are big name people, Clarke.  And they all specifically want you.  Now, personally, I would focus on these three.”  She highlighted the emails. “There’s two leading roles and one supporting, and the scripts are good.  I read all of them myself over the weekend.”

“Holy shit,” Clarke breathed.  “Did I do it?  Did I get over my crazy lesbian phase?”  
“I thought you said you weren’t a lesbian,” Anya quipped back.

“You know what I mean.”

“Maybe not but you and I both know that crazy sells, Clarke.  And you’ve proven over the last few months that even if you’re batshit you do good work.  And that’s what these people want.”

Clarke fell back in her chair.

The first thing she thought was, _I need to tell Bellamy_.

 

gensuperdaily:

VOTE FOR GEN SUPER, CLARKE GRIFFIN, AND BELLAMY BLAKE IN THE FIRST ROUND OF THE 2017 PEOPLE’S CHOICE AWARDS!  
Vote here:

  * _Gen Super -_ Favorite Network SciFi/Fantasty TV Show
  * Clarke Griffin - Favorite Network SciFi/Fantasy TV Actress
  * Bellamy Blake - Favorite Network SciFi/Fantasy TV Actor



The competition’s tight, y’all, so go out and vote vote vote!!

 

The week after PCA nominations were released Clarke invited Bellamy and Raven over to watch that week’s _Gen Super_ episode.  Weekly live tweeting had become a habit of hers and Bellamy’s, usually at her house because according to Bellamy her couch was bigger, but sometimes at Bellamy’s when there was a larger group that Clarke’s smaller living room couldn’t accommodate.

Bellamy had already taken up his post on one edge of the couch, Paisley wrapped around his ankles and purring madly when Raven sauntered in with a massive bag of tortilla chips and what looked like five different kinds of dip.

“You know there’s only like three of us, right?” Clarke asked her, eyebrow raised.

“Back off, Griffin, half of this is for me,” Raven countered as she pushed into the kitchen and grabbed a bowl out of Clarke’s cabinets.

“What, so there’s none for Clarke?” Bellamy yelled from the living room.

Clarke rolled her eyes as Raven chuckled.

“I like him more and more every day,” Raven whispered in Clarke’s ear as she passed.

“Don’t let him hear you,” Clarke grumbled.  “Or I’ll never hear the end of it.”

Raven threw a toothy grin over her shoulder and settled down on the opposite side of the couch from Bellamy. She dumped half the bag of chips into the bowl and started taking the lids off dips.

Clarke squeezed herself into the admittedly tight space between Bellamy and Raven as the former handed her the TV remote. Clarke clicked on the TV. Raven chomped loudly on a tortilla chip.  Bellamy’s elbow brushed Clarke’s side and she jumped.

“I swear to God,” Raven muttered as the first of _The Flash’s_ credits rolled, “you two are the most awkward dating couple ever.”

“We’re not--” they said in unison.

“Yeah, yeah.” She bit into another chip, loaded with guacamole.  “I’ve gotten drunk enough with Clarkey here to know that without a shadow of the doubt.”

Clarke felt Bellamy’s eyes boring into the back of her head.  She purposefully kept her eyes on Raven.

“What exactly is it that you want?” she asked finally.  “For us to be all over each other all the time?  For us to make out in front of you?  What, Raven, what do you want?”

“I don’t want anything, Clarke, it just amazes me that you two are both such good actors, and you’re so good at doing whatever it is that you do in the public eye and yet here you are, practically glued together but rigid as boards.”

Clarke swallowed.

“This is the one time that we can be awkward, and we can be ourselves,” Bellamy said quietly and slowly, like he was choosing each word with care.  “In public we have to be madly in love.  We don’t have another option.” Clarke looked over at him.  He was staring down at the carpet.  “But with you and with Octavia, you’re the only two people we can tell the truth around.” He fixes Raven in a hard glare.  “Please don’t ask us to lie to you, too.”

“Tell me this, Blake,” Raven said finally.

One of Bellamy’s eyebrows went up.

“In a different world you’d totally want to date Clarke for real.”

Clarke blew out an exasperated breath as Bellamy laughed, a small and surprised huff.

“She is pretty great,” he said after a pause.  “And I’m ashamed of myself for not realizing it earlier.”

Clarke looked over at Bellamy and he smiled at her and she felt something in her thaw.  She leaned into his shoulder and he leaned his head briefly against hers.

“Oh, my God, actually I was kidding earlier,” Raven said, faking disgust.  “I get enough of that couple bullshit with your sister.”

“She’s engaged, she’s allowed to do that.”

“Oh, my God,” Raven said, eyes wide.  “Did that just happen? Am I hallucinating?  Did Bellamy Blake just praise one of his sister’s romantic relationships?”

“For God’s sake, Rae, shut up,” Clarke said as the commercials between shows switched over and she heard her own voice say, “ _Last week on Gen Super._ ”

Clarke saw Raven smile and sink back into the couch and she suddenly realized exactly what Raven had been doing.  Bellamy leaned forward and swiped up some french onion dip on a chip and Clarke felt herself yearn to lean into the brush of his arm against her thigh.  That was what Raven’s intention had been, what Raven’s intentions had always been.  She was just a lot more subtle than Marcus would ever be.

As the previous episode’s recap play Clarke found her mind going to March.  That was the promise she and Bellamy had made to Marcus.  They’d put on a show for him and the public for a year, they’d fake liking each other for a year, and then they’d be done.  Thinking back she knew that neither she nor Bellamy had expected _Gen Super_ to do this well.  For God’s sake it was a teen drama on the CW about superpowers, not exactly Emmy winning material.  And yet, sometime in the filming of the season, something had clicked for her and it had started being about more than just getting over her post-Lexa career slump.   _Gen Super_ had become something else, something that she wanted to do well, something that she wanted to come back to for a second season.  And, if she let herself think it, so was Bellamy.  And frankly, the idea of March coming closer and the closer along with the reckoning it would bring terrified her more than she wanted it to.

 

_“Clarke Griffin, currently starring in the CW’s Gen Super joins the cast of Miles Past Sunset, written and directed by Academy Award Nominee Indra Gleason and produced by Open Road Productions in conjunction with Paramount Pictures.  The film is set to begin primary photography in early January in Toronto and is to be distributed by A24 both domestically and internationally.  Zoe Monroe, Echo Banks, and Roan Leeds are already attached to the project._

_Miles Past Sunset has been described as a real and gritty survival story of a young woman at rock bottom, alone and desperate, and her struggle to find her way back to an even keel.  Griffin’s role has not been released but she is expected to play the film’s female lead.”_

(“Gen Super _Star Joins Open Road’s_ Miles Past Sunset.” Variety, Web.)

 

“You know I’m really proud of you right, Clarke?” Octavia asked one Saturday.

Raven had backed out of their weekly girl’s night and margaritas, claiming she had a date, so Clarke and Octavia decided to stay in.  Lincoln was on a business trip so Clarke had offered to stay the night.  Octavia had taken her up gladly, telling Clarke it saved her from having to get on her knees and beg Bellamy to stay with her.  Neither of them had addressed the elephant in the room that this cast into focus--Bellamy would have done it in a second.

“I mean, yeah,” Clarke said slowly.  “But what exactly brought this on?”

“I was just thinking,” Octavia said.  “That out of all the people who come to this damn city every city and try to make it, you did.  You and Bellamy both did and I’m so proud of the both of you.”

“We’re both proud of you, too, you know,” Clarke said gruffly.  There was something earnest in Octavia’s tone that was making her uncomfortable.  Something that hit a bit too close to home, maybe.

“Pish posh,” Octavia countered.  “Anyone can be a nurse.”

Clarke barked a laugh.  “Tell that to my high school math teachers.”

“I’m happy for you both,” Octavia said.  “I’m glad you found each other.”

Clarke sighed.  “Octavia--”

“I know, I know.  I know, Clarke, okay, I do.  I just mean...I’m glad that you found your way together eventually even if it took years and even if all you ever are is friends.”

Clarke turned to Octavia, thinking over her next words carefully. “What did he say about me?”

“Bellamy?”

“Yeah.”

“When?”

Clarke waved her hand aimlessly.  “Before.  Before all this.”

Octavia considered that.  “I don’t know what the right word is,” she said.  “I don’t think it’s hatred, I don’t think he ever hated you.  But it wasn’t like he was ambivalent, either.  Truth be told, from the day that I met you until he told me that he was auditioning for _Gen Super_ I don’t even know if I heard him say your name in anything more than passing.”

“So I was nothing to him.”

“I mean, I guess.”

Clarke considered that.

“But I’ll tell you, once he found out that he was going to be your costar all I heard was _Clarke this_ and _Clarke that_.  It was infuriating.”

Clarke laughed.

“You know, I don’t know if he ever disliked you.”

Clarke gave her a disbelieving look.

“No, seriously.  Like he would talk about you in this super disparaging way but I always got the feeling like he was doing it more for show than anything else.  Like once he found out how much you hated being called ‘princess’ he just started doing it all the time.  He wanted to mess with you, that’s really it.”

“So he didn’t hate me.”

“Not in as many words.”

“I wish I could say the same.”

Octavia cracked the smallest of smiles.  “Trust me, Clarke, if I wasn’t his sister and he hadn’t practically raised me after our deadbeat of a mother went and died on us, I probably would have, too.”

“He’s a good person, I wish I’d seen that before.”

“He’s a bit too good at hiding it, I think.  He doesn’t want people to know.”

“Why?”

“That’s his business to tell, not mine.”

Clarke nodded.

“Lincoln and I have been watching the show, you know,” Octavia said after a long pause.

Clarke looked at her.  “I figured.”

“And not just for Bell, either, I’m really enjoying it.”

“I’m glad.”

“You’re a better actor than you used to be.”

Clarke barked a laugh.  “What’s that supposed to mean exactly?”

Octavia’s grin was wide.  “Oh, you know, just that you’ve _matured_ as a talent.”

Clarke snorted.  “You’re starting to sound like my manager.”

“You and Bell do have incredible onscreen chemistry, I can see why Marcus asked you to do what you’re doing.”

“It’s all acting, Octavia.”

O bit her lip and looked away.  “Maybe.  Maybe not.  Look, Clarke, I really don’t care what you think of my brother.  But what I said to you in that restaurant bathroom remains--don’t fuck with him and I won’t have to fuck with you.”

“And like I told you, I have no intentions of hurting your brother.”

“Just because you don’t intend to do something doesn’t mean you won’t.”

“It’s just until March.  Then we’ll stage some kind of ambivalent breakup and move on with our lives.”

Octavia considered that.  “I like being able to have both of you in my life at the same time.  Please don’t let whatever happens between the two of you in March break up your friendship.”

Clarke was quiet. “Trust me when I say that that’s the last thing I want to happen.”

“Good.”  She paused.  “You’re good for him.”

Before she had the chance to overthink it Clarke found herself replying, “I think he’s good for me, too.”

 

It was a Saturday afternoon and Clarke was aimlessly cycling through her Netflix queue.  She had about eight shows she was in the middle of but none of them were speaking to her.  She scrolled past a row of documentaries and paused, considering.  But she moved on.  Somehow it felt wrong to be thinking about watching something like that without Bellamy.

She’d psychoanalyze herself for that later.

As if on cue, her phone started vibrating with an incoming call.  She was bored enough that she picked it up without checking the caller ID.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Clarke, it’s Bellamy.”

She straightened.  “Hey, what’s up?”

“I was supposed to get coffee with Gina but she ditched me for some new hot date.  You, uh, are you free today?”

“Yeah, but I’m not leaving my couch.”

He laughed.  “That’s fair.  I’ll be over in forty?”

“Sounds great.”

Bellamy was nothing if not punctual and he was knocking on her door thirty-nine minutes later with a carry tray of coffee and a bag of donuts.

“You really don’t have to keep bringing me things every time you come over, you know,” she said to him in lieu of a greeting.

He just shrugged and pushed past her into the kitchen.  He threw a quick glance at her TV and asked, “indecision?”

“You’d think that with a library of so many titles it’d be easy to pick one but no.”

She heard the sound of her fridge opening and a small laugh.  “Did you seriously buy me peach yogurt?”

“Isn’t that what good fake girlfriends do?”

He came back into the living room and handed her a coffee, her almond milk creamer and two Splendas already stirred in.

“I wouldn’t know, this is a first for me.”

“It was on sale.”

“You could just admit you did something nice and call it a day, you know.”

She scoffed.  “Why ever would I do that?”

He chuckled then gestured to the TV.  “What’s on?”

She hesitated.  “I was thinking about a documentary but it felt blasphemous to watch one without you.”

He grinned.  “That’s an honor.  Which one?”

“There’s something about the origin of the vampire myth that sounded interesting.”

He slunk lower into the couch cushions.  “I’m always down for some good old Vlad the Impaler.”

She navigated to the right menu and selected the title.  “I’ll remember that.”

“Hey, Clarke?” he asked suddenly.

“Yeah?”

“Are we like...are we doing Christmas?”

Clarke paused the TV.  “What do you mean, are we doing Christmas?”

“I guess I should say _how_ are we doing Christmas, like obviously I’m going to buy you a present anyway because even without all this fake relationship bullshit you’re still my friend and I want to buy you something but are we buying each other presents as just friends or as a couple?” He said all of this is a fast huff.  Clarke spent a few seconds after he’d stopped speaking trying to decipher the words.

“I think someone would notice if we didn’t write, ‘love you, you’re the best!!’ in each other’s cards,” she said dumbly.

“We could always say we wanted to do our first Christmas as a couple on our own,” he suggested.

“Easier to keep up the charade if we do it with the others,” she pointed out.  “Wasn’t Jasper talking about doing a massive cast Christmas party?”

“That’s like three days before.  Half the cast is going home for actual Christmas.”

“Aren’t you going to be doing it with Octavia though?”

“She’s going to Lincoln’s parents’ place.”

“So what you’re saying is, ‘Clarke, I’m going to be alone on Christmas, please spend it with me.’”

“Well, I figured you weren’t going home.”

She frowned.

“Sorry, that was a bit blunt.”

“No, no, you’re not wrong.  I’m certainly not.”  She paused, thought for a moment.  “And it sure would be nice to have a legitimate reason to beg off having to do it.”

“Your mom still invites you every year?”

She groaned.  “Like clockwork.  I get embossed invitations.”

He snorted.  “You’re her _daughter_.”

“I’m a nice trophy she likes to show around now that I’m famous and publicly dating a man.”

“It’s decided then,” he said.  “We’ll do Christmas together.  Just us.”

“Just us,” she affirmed.  And decided that she was going to ignore the little thrill in her stomach at the thought.

 

gabrenas:

gen super 1x05: “enemies to allies” recap

\- lena is literally the cutest where do i get one

\- iris and lena being #bros aka #girlpower aka #signmeup

\- how is gabriel such a dick and yet also i like him??? How???

\- gabriel telling lena that he actually doesn’t hate her

\- I JUST DIDN’T UNDERSTAND YOU

_\- OBVIOUSLY YOU STILL DON’T_

_\- OBVIOUSLY._

_\- YOU._

_\- STILL._

_\- DON’T._

\- WHERE DO I GET ME AN ATTITUDE LIKE THAT

\- i’m so ready for these two to bang like @marcus kane can we make that happen

#gen super #lena meier #gabriel ayers #gabrena

 

After filming had ended Clarke had made herself a promise that she’d try and hang out with the rest of the cast on a semi-regular basis.  By the end of October, certain people had started falling through the cracks.  As far as she was aware, no one had seen Murphy since the premiere.  For some reason he only texted Jasper, who repeatedly informed the others about his whereabouts.  Supposedly he was in Toronto, potentially at the wedding of a sister no one else had realized he had.  Miller was busy on some indie project shooting in Georgia but he and Clarke and Bellamy and Monty had already made plans to meet up for drinks when he got back.  Clarke saw Monty and Jasper occasionally but they were usually off doing something that Clarke didn’t want to think too much about.  Harper occasionally tagged along on Raven, Clarke, and Octavia’s girls’ nights and Clarke was seeing plenty of her outside of those, too.

The one person Clarke hadn’t been expecting to see nearly as much of as she was, however, was Gina.  After their lunch date when she and Gina had talked about Bellamy, they’d started meeting up about once a week, sometimes with Raven or Bellamy and sometimes by themselves.  Clarke had liked Gina from the beginning but she was finding herself liking her more and more as they spent more time together.  Gina was funny and a good listener and Clarke found herself yearning to be able to tell the other woman about the truth behind her and Bellamy’s sham of a relationship.

She and Raven and Gina went out to lunch on a Saturday in the middle of November.  When Clarke arrived, Raven and Gina were already seated and...leaning in really close to each other?

Clarke cleared her throat and sat down.  Raven and Gina sprang apart.

“Hey, Clarke,” Raven said, voice a bit gruff.

“Hi.”  She opened her menu.

“There’s something we wanted to tell you,” Gina said quietly.  “It’s the reason why we asked you to not bring Bellamy.”

“What, because you didn’t want to have to tell the guy that you were engaged to and she was fucking for a couple months that now you’re dating?” Clarke asked the appetizers section.

An awkward silence.

Clarke dropped her menu.  “ _You actually are?_ ”

Raven and Gina looked at each other, a bit sheepish.  Raven reached for Gina’s hand and squeezed.

“Yeah.”

“Holy motherfuck, what kind of soap opera shit?” But Clarke could feel herself grinning.  “This is the best news I’ve heard all month and that includes the fact that there is a _dog cafe in Los Angeles_.”

“You didn’t know about the dog cafe?”

“It’s been there for like months,” Raven added.

“No, I didn’t know about the dog cafe but that’s not what we’re talking about right now.  Two of my closest friends are dating!”  She paused.  “Bellamy’s going to flip his shit.”

Gina flushed a little.  “You’re going to tell him immediately, aren’t you?”

Clarke whipped her phone out.  “You bet your ass I am.”  She looked up.  “He’s going to be super happy for you guys.”

“You think?”

“Absolutely.”

 

People’s Choice @peopleschoice  
The finalists for the 2017 #peopleschoiceawards are live!  Go vote!

 

Clarke Griffin @cgriffs  
So honored by making it into the #PCA finals! Your support means the world to me

 

“So my ex-girlfriend and my ex-fiance are _dating_?”

As Clarke had predicted, Bellamy was happy for Raven and Gina. But he was also, to put it plainly, dumbfounded by the whole idea.

“Yes.”

“And they want to hang out with us so they can use us as a cover?”

“Again, yes.”

“Wow.  This really is not what I was expecting when you said you had great news.”

“What were you expecting?”

“I don’t know, maybe that you bought me more yogurt.”

“You ate all of it _already_?”

“I told you, I really like yogurt.”

She scrubbed a hand through her hair.  “Jesus, Bellamy.”

“Okay, but can we get back to my ex-girlfriends dating each other.”

“If you want to.”

“Who else knows?”

“No one.  Raven insisted that they tell me because she tells me everything.”

“I guess this means we have to tell Gina about us.”

“That’s what I was thinking, yeah.”  She paused.  “I mean, I was thinking about asking you if we could tell her anyway.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I mean I like her.  Really like her.  Not like that, Bellamy, stop looking at me like that.”

He snorted.

“Like I think of her as a good friend.  And I don’t like lying to my friends.”

“We’re lying to plenty of our friends,” he pointed out.

“Yeah, but that’s mostly because if we told anyone else jasper would find out and once we did, literally the entire Internet would know about it because Jasper can’t keep a secret to save his life.”

“That’s true.”

“Thank God you moved out of that apartment, honestly.”

“He wouldn’t stop watching these weird freestyle canoeing videos at 2 AM.”

“I’m sorry, but what?”

“It’s some kind of competition where they canoe to music.”

“So it’s like figure skating but with a canoe?”

“Basically.”

“What the _fuck_?”

“I know.”

“At 2 AM?”

“Yep.”

“Jesus.”

“I know.”

“They’re coming over for breakfast tomorrow.  I promised to make pancakes.”

“Thank you for renting out my apartment without asking me,” he deadpanned.

“Oh, please, like you care.”

“Still it would have been nice if you asked.”

She rolled her eyes.  “Stop being a drama queen.”

“You’re starting to sound like my sister.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“I am happy for them, you know,” he said after a long moment.

She leaned her head against his shoulder.  “I know.”

Another pause.  “Since you’re making pancakes tomorrow do you just want to stay over?”

“If you insist.”

“I did not _insist_. I offered. That toothbrush you left here last week is still in the bathroom,” he offered after a pause.

“Oh, how sweet of you.”

She felt him smile.  “You could just say thank you.”

“You’re right, I could.”

He huffed a laugh.  Then kissed the top of her head, briefly.  She tried to pretend she didn’t burrow into his shoulder afterwards.

 

clarkegriffindaily:

Clarke Griffin out and about in LA on November 23, 2016 with _Gen Super_ costars Bellamy Blake, Raven Reyes, and Gina Martin.

 

Clarke Griffin @cgriffs  
Mark your calendars for next Tuesday, the midseason finale of @GenSuperCW! We promise you’re not ready.

 

On December 1st, Octavia let herself into Bellamy’s apartment.  Raven and Gina were gathered around the table, grinning at each other at that “we’re newly in love” kind of way while Bellamy and Clarke moved around each other in a synchronized dance making breakfast.

“Did I miss a memo?” Octavia asked.

Bellamy froze and Clarke ran into him.  She yelped.

“O?”

“Hey, Bell.”

Octavia’s eyes slid to Raven and Gina, who were holding hands across the table.

“I definitely missed something.”

Twenty minutes later found all five of them sitting at Bellamy’s table, a plate piled with bacon and pancakes between them.

“I’m sorry we didn’t tell you,” Raven said quietly.  “We didn’t really tell anyone.”

“Except Clarke and my brother.”

“They only told us so they’d have an excuse to be out in public together without anyone noticing,” Clarke replied.  “Everyone’s still so distracted by me and Bell that they don’t really pay attention to who we’re with.”

“And I’m not really ready to come out yet,” Gina confessed.  “I’m so sorry, Octavia, Raven wanted to tell you but I….”

“Wanted to limit the exposure.  I get it,” O said.  “I do really.  I was just a little shocked.” She speared a pancake and reached for the butter.  “Congrats.”

“Thank you.”

Octavia leveled a knife at Gina.  “Though I should tell you that if you hurt her I will _kick your ass_.”

“She kickboxes,” Clarke told Gina.  “I’d watch your back.”

Raven scoffed.  Gina just smiled.

Octavia, however, seemed to have moved on. “Clarke, these pancakes are incredible.”

“Family recipe.”

“The one good thing her mom ever gave her,” Raven said darkly.

“Having seen pictures of her mom, I can say that’s not true,” Bellamy said.  “She passed down a really excellent jawline.”

Clarke resisted the urge to stab him in the hand with her fork.  Instead, she jammed her heel down onto his foot under the table.  He winced.

“That was really unnecessary.”

“Don’t talk about my bone structure at the table then.”

“You’re really up-in-arms today.”

She just rolled her eyes and started ripping apart a piece of bacon.

“Clarke?” he tried cautiously.

“It’s fine, Bellamy.”

Her curt tone must have warned him off.

The rest of breakfast was quiet.  Raven and Gina disappeared quickly after the dishes were done but Octavia lingered, glaring daggers at her brother until he finally said, “What, Octavia?”

“Bedroom,” she ordered.

He got up slowly and followed her out of the room.

Clarke switched on the TV and tried to calm down.

They came back out of Bellamy’s bedroom 15 minutes later.  Octavia walked right out the door with a bare, “bye, Clarke, see you later,” leaving Bellamy standing awkwardly in the doorway.

“I’m sorry, Clarke,” he said finally.  “I didn’t know.”

“Know what.”

“About your dad.”

She looked at him.

“And this week being the anniversary of his death.”

She swallowed.  “Oh.  Right.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

She looked away, heard more than saw him cross the room and sit cautiously on the edge of the couch.

“I don’t like to talk about it, I guess.  Makes it easier if people aren’t tiptoeing around around you.”

“I know.” His voice was soft.

 _And of course he would_ , Clarke thought.   _What an idiot she was._

“Your mom,” she said and he nodded.

“Obviously my relationship with her was nothing like what you had with your dad.  I don’t miss her and I don’t really mourn her.  But... I know what it feels like to have everyone pity you.”  He reached out a hand and touched her shoulder lightly, cautiously.  She didn’t pull away. “I don’t pity you, Clarke.”

“No?”

“I never have.”

“Octavia said you never hated me either.”

He shifted.  She looked over at him.  He was staring down at his hands, loosely woven together in his lap.

“I’d say that’s true,” he said slowly.

“So why did you treat me like you did?”

He gave her a sideways look, a smirk curling around his lips.  “I hate to break it to you, princess, but you were hardly nice to me, too.”

“Yeah, I know.  But...you started it.  The first time we ever met I tried so hard to be nice to you and every time you just rebuffed me.  Called me ‘princess’ or sneered at me or some other shit.”

He sighed.  “I guess I did.”

“So _why_ , Bellamy?”

“Would you accept me saying I don’t know?”

She looked at him.  “I don’t believe it.”

“Yeah, I figured you wouldn’t.”  He sighed.  “Uh, I don’t know, it was a rough time for me.  I was stressed about money, O was in one of those brief phases where she refused to speak to me half the time and yet we were living in this literal shithole out in Van Nuys.  I wasn’t in a good place, Clarke, and then you walked into my life all perfect and rich-looking and trying to be nice, I see that now, but back then I thought you were just a bitch.”

“I mean I was.  Still am.”

“Yeah, but you probably didn’t deserve the things I said to you.”

“I gave back as good as I got.”

“And then it just kept snowballing.  It was easy to be angry at you because you’d be angry back.  I stopped feeling guilty about it for that exact reason.”

“You were a really easy person to hate,” she admitted.

“I wanted you to hate me because it meant I could hate you,” he told her quietly.  “At least that’s what I told myself.”

“So then I guess the logical question is did you?  Hate me?” she added.

“You’re a very difficult person to hate, Clarke Griffin,” he said after a beat.  And didn’t continue.

She sank back into the couch.  “Thank you, Bellamy.”

“For what?”

“Telling me the truth.”

“Of course.  What are fake boyfriends for.”

 

Octavia Blake @octaviasablake  
Peace out, world, we’re going to WHISTLER! @cgriffs @bellblake @lincolnswoods @raven_reyes @Gina_Martin

 

Octavia sprang the Whistler trip on them out of nowhere, probably because she was worried that Bellamy would say no.  Which, honestly, was a fair concern. Considering his first response after she told him, Clarke, and Raven that they were all going on a trip was a flat out, “No, Octavia.” Then she shoved printed out receipts for non-refundable hotel reservations in his face and he was forced to say “okay.”

Clarke, honestly, was excited.  Despite the fact that she was a born and raised Southern Californian the constant sunshine even in December got to her sometimes and she was excited about taking a trip up north where it would be cold and there would be snow.  However, she wasn’t so excited about the part that Octavia had rented skis for all of them (and a snowboard for Raven).

“What do you mean, you’ve never gone skiing,” Octavia said in the airport security line.

“I was raised in San Diego, where exactly was I going to go skiing?”

“I don’t know, don’t rich people go on vacation to fancy ski lodges and shit?”

“Sure, but my parents went to Mexico and Hawaii and places like that.”

“Don’t worry,” Octavia said with a wide grin as she heaved her carry on up onto the belt.  “Bellamy’s a great skier.  And a great teacher.”

She winked and Clarke considered strangling her.

 

gensuperdaily:

Clarke Griffin, Bellamy Blake, Raven Reyes, and Gina Martin spotted at Vancouver International Airport on December 19th.

#cast #clarke griffin #bellamy blake #raven reyes #gina martin #octavia blake #lincoln woods

 

The hotel Octavia had made reservations at was a massive sprawling lodge-looking thing on the outskirts of Whistler Village, with a view of the gondola and the mountain.  The rooms were massive and everything smelled vaguely of evergreen trees. Raven claimed there were hidden air fresheners somewhere, kicking off a nearly thirty minute search in which six fully-grown adults ripped Lincoln and Octavia’s room apart looking for them to no avail. Gina had finally called the search off when she found Bellamy half under the vanity in the bathroom inspecting the pipes.  Her exact response had been “Clarke, get your boyfriend under control” but no one was really paying attention at that point, too breathless with laughter at Bellamy’s confused look and what might have been plaster dust in his hair.

Clarke hated to admit it but she found it a bit endearing.  Judging from the looks on Raven and Octavia’s faces they knew.

They got to the hotel late so agreed to spend the afternoon in their respective rooms and meet up for dinner around six.  Octavia and Bellamy were the only ones familiar with Whistler and the village and promised to show the other four around.  Octavia had promised the best caramel apples any of them had ever had and Bellamy had hinted at a cheap hidden gem of a restaurant they could go to for dinner.

Clarke didn’t bother unpacking and and instead wheeled her suitcase into the corner then flopped back onto the bed.  She felt her muscles, still kinked from the flight and three hours of driving from Vancouver, unraveling and sighed, closing her eyes.  She felt the bedsprings jump as Bellamy flopped down next to her.

“This bed is fantastic,” he said after a short pause.

She smiled.

“Great for when you come home feeling like your body is waging war against itself.”

She cracked an eye open to see him grinning at her. “What are you talking about?”

“You’ve never been skiing, Griffin, it’s going to wreck muscles you didn’t even know you had.”

His smiled widened as she groaned. “I didn’t want to go skiing.”

“Yeah, but you’re here so you might as well.  Who goes to a ski resort and doesn’t ski?”

She considered throwing a pillow in his face but decided it would be too much effort. She rolled over instead.  He shook her arm lightly.

“Come on, princess, it’ll be fun.” There was a smile in his voice when he added, “I’ll take good care of you.”

“Oh, shut up.”

“Someone’s cranky.”

“I hate flying.”

“I’ve noticed.”

She rolled back over, expecting to find a smirk on his face.  Instead, he was looking at her all earnest in a way that made her stomach want to twist itself into circles.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, you know,” he said quietly.

She chewed on her lip. “It’s fine, Bellamy, you can teach me how to ski.”

He searched her eyes, a small smile playing around his lips.  “Yeah?”

“As long as you promise not to let me fall into a snowdrift or something.”

“I’ll do my best, princess, but that’s going to be a difficult promise to keep.”

“Oh, yeah?”

He raised an eyebrow.  “What, you want me to attach a leash to you like an anxious parent with a six year old or something?”

She rolled closer and poked him in the chest.  “I’m not that kind of girl, Bellamy.”

He threw his head back and laughed.  “You didn’t.”

She just smiled and turned onto her back again.  His arm pressed against hers.  They were both quiet.  The only sound was their breathing, surprisingly in sync.

“I’m going to tell my sister you started making BDSM jokes,” he said finally.

“Go for it.  She’s going to kill you first.  I’ll have time to flee the country.”

He laughed.

After another pause she rolled over onto her side, pillowing her head on her arm.  He looked over at her, brown eyes meeting hers straight on, no barriers.

“Tell me about the first time you came here.”

“The first time?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I was four so….” He trailed off.

She whacked his arm. “The first time you remember then.”

He bit his lip.  “I was…twelve.  O was eight.  We came with her dad and our mom.”

“What was he like?”

“O’s dad?”

“Yeah.”

He shrugged.  “He was nice.  Treated our mom well, treated me well.”  He paused. “She had boyfriends before him that didn’t like me much so it was nice.” He turned fully onto his side. She felt his breath fan across her face. “We stayed at one of the super discount hotels outside of the village.  It was this shitty room with a shitty mattress and a pullout couch that smelled like mothballs.” He smiled at the memory and Clarke was possessed with the bizarre desire to trace the shape of it with her fingers. She suppressed it. “But it didn’t really feel that shitty, you know?  Or maybe you don’t, I don’t know.” He sighed. “Like…that room was full of love or some other bullshit like they say on the Hallmark Channel.  It was one of the brief periods when Mom was happy, when I thought that maybe we made her happy.  So even though we could barely afford to be here and we had to rent secondhand skis and boots that barely fit and we had to share meals, it’s one of the happiest memories from my childhood.”

He looked up at her again and this time Clarke did reach out to trace lightly across his cheekbone. His eyes closed and she felt his lashes brush against her hand. He had amazingly long eyelashes, she thought, how had she never noticed that before?

“Tell me about another one of the happy times,” she said quietly.

“Why?” he asked softly.

She mulled that over. “Because I feel like every time you talk about your childhood it’s something negative. Or stressful.  I like knowing that you got to be a kid.”

His mouth opened and closed, like he didn’t know quite what to say.  “Did I ever tell you about when O and I went camping the summer before I went to college?”

She shuffled a little closer so their knees brushed. He didn’t pull away.

“No.”

“Well, it’s how we figured out that Octavia’s allergic to bees.” He laughed. “When she literally sat on an _entire beehive_.”

“ _No_.”

“Yes. Do you know how hard it is to find an open hospital on the Olympic Peninsula at 9 PM on a Saturday?”

He laughed and her hand slid down to his neck. It rested gently there and she stared at the difference between their skin—hers pale and fair, his tanned over an olive complexion. His pulse beat against her fingers, a little fast but still calm and easy. She felt herself get lost in it, the steady _beat beat beat_ against her skin, in the proof that he was alive and breathing right there with her.

 

Bellamy’s cheap restaurant turned out to be barely a kiosk in the middle of a hidden square that served poutine. Clarke had, of course heard of it, and she’d passed more than one place that advertised it while they were shooting in Vancouver but she’d never had it.  Nevertheless, the smell of the fries covered in cheese curds and drenched in gravy was heavenly and the six of them inhaled their food huddled around an empty table outside a closed cafe.

“Amazing, right?” Bellamy asked from across the table.

Lincoln toasted him with his beer.  “A brother-in-law worth keeping around.”

Bellamy grinned at him and the two clinked glasses.  Clarke saw Octavia duck her smile into her own food and not even Raven made a sarcastic comment about the two men getting along.

After dinner they wandered the village and even if it was fucking freezing and she thought she might never regain full usage of her face, Clarke was happy.  There was something peaceful about the crunch of snow under their boots, the laughter of kids and families on vacation, and sounds of her friends’ voices fading in and out around her as Raven and Lincoln started debating the benefits of android phones versus iPhones and Octavia rambled to Gina about bridesmaid dresses and flower arrangements and how difficult seating arrangements were when no one would RSVP on time.

Bellamy stayed on Clarke’s left, hands shoved into his pockets, smiling ever so slightly whenever someone said something funny or Raven gained the upper hand in her and Lincoln’s argument. Clarke looked over at him and he met her eyes, one eyebrow going up.

“You good?” he asked quietly and she nodded.

He shifted one of his hands out of his pocket and let it dangle between them. His forward-facing look was full of stoic ambivalence and Clarke noted the stiff set of his shoulders as her gaze trailed down to his gloved hand. She reached for it and let their fingers tangle together. She squeezed and the tension in his shoulders melted.

When she looked away Gina was watching her, bemusement in every line of her face. Clarke felt her face heat and she looked away.  They’d done this before, held hands, on the streets of LA and Vancouver. But like almost everything else she and Bellamy did together in public it was calculated. _Were those people looking at them?  Did that man just take a picture?_  More than anything, it still felt like acting, like there was a second Bellamy and Clarke whose skins they stepped into the second they left the house. But this felt different. In that moment they weren’t the Bellamy and Clarke that used just the right number of pet names in public or the Bellamy and Clarke that had learned to lie seamlessly to their friends.  They were the Bellamy and Clarke that fought for the remote and the Bellamy and Clarke that watched conspiracy theory documentaries in their pajamas and couldn’t sleep for hours afterwards, arguing over whether or not the Black Dahlia was an inside job.

For the first time Bellamy’s hand against hers, even through the two layers of their gloves, felt real.  The thought terrified her and buoyed her at the same time. She just squeezed tighter and let Bellamy pull her forward.

 

“So I put my foot where?  Here?”

Clarke’s feet felt too heavy in the ski boots and they were pinching her toes in a way that Bellamy promised she’d get used to.

“You don’t want them to be too loose,” he’d told her as she buckled them for her in the rental place. “Otherwise your foot will move around too much and you can hurt yourself.”  He’d looked up at her from under that damn curtain of curls and she’d felt herself smile. “How’s that feel?”

“Like you’re squeezing the life out of me,” she’d retorted and he’d grinned, tapping the side of her foot.

“Great.  Up you get.”

He stood smoothly and offered his hands to her.  She took them and let him pull her to her feet.

The trek to the gondola in them had been nearly impossible.  Bellamy had offered to carry her poles for her but she’d resisted.  It barely took five hundred feet before she started wishing she’d taken him up on it.  Her skis kept separating and she was having trouble keeping them over her shoulder.  She caught him grinning at her more than once but he didn’t renew his offer to carry her stuff as they led the pack towards the gondola.

Now they were near one of the bottom most chairlifts.  Lincoln and Octavia, both experienced skiers had disappeared to another lift that would take them higher up the mountain with a promise to meet them for lunch.  Raven and Gina, both ready to go, were waiting patiently for Clarke to get her skis on, a task she was having a disproportionate amount of trouble with.

Bellamy straightened one of Clarke’s skis and nodded as she guided her toe into the binding.

“Yep, right there.  Line your heel up, good, and press down.” There was a sharp click. “There you go, princess, now the next one.”  He locked his own boots in as she struggled with the second, finally getting it into place.

“That was way harder than it should have been,” she grumbled.

He leaned down and picked up both their poles.

“Trust me, you’re doing fine.”

“Gross,” Raven called.

Bellamy flipped her off and she laughed.

“You ready?” he asked Clarke and she nodded.

He turned to Raven and Gina. “I’m going to take her up a kiddie hill just to get her started.  You guys don’t have to come with us.”

“We’ll take the lift up with you,” Gina answered.  “I wanted to start with a green anyway, it’s been a while since I went skiing.”

Bellamy nodded and pushed off in the direction of the lift line.  The other three followed.

By lunchtime Clarke thought she had more snow down her pants and up her shirt than there was caked into the outside of her clothes, her face burned from the amount she’d fallen over, and she thought she might need physical therapy after this trip was over if she ever wanted to regain proper usage of her arms and legs.  But, despite it all, and despite the fact that she’d been the oldest novice skier on the bunny hill by at least fifteen years, she’d had fun.  She’d done her fair share of waterskiing in her youth which Bellamy claimed was probably helping her keep her balance, but it’d taken her the majority of the morning to master turning and using her poles in a way that didn’t take them both out.  Bellamy, bless him, had been a frightfully good sport about the whole thing, picking himself up off the ground again and again and saying, “All right, Clarke, again.”

It was maddening but also endearing.

Raven and Gina had split off from them after about an hour, probably to go meet up with Lincoln and Octavia, but all six of them regrouped for lunch.  The cafeteria was a cavernous space filled with tables and laughing people.  The other four were already there, waiting for them at a table, laughing about Raven wiping out off a jump into a tree, a conversation that jolted to a halt when Bellamy and Clarke slid into the table’s two empty seats.

“Judging from the amount of snow Clarke’s wearing I’m guessing this morning didn’t go well?” Raven teased.

“Shut up,” Clarke snapped back with little heat.

“To be fair, she succeeded in taking me down most of the time, too,” Bellamy added.

“A woman of many talents,” Raven deadpanned and Bellamy grinned down at his cheeseburger.

“Where’d you guys go?” he asked.

Octavia and Gina rattled off a list of runs that Clarke couldn’t keep track of.  They quickly devolved into a conversation about the merits of their favorites and Lincoln looked over at Clarke.

“How are you liking it?” he asked, barely audible over the sound of his fiance’s berating of her brother.

Clarke shrugged.  “Fine, I guess.  Bell’s a good teacher.”

Lincoln nodded.  “Octavia’s told me.  He taught her, too, you know.”

“Years ago,” Bellamy added, making Clarke jump.

Lincoln shrugged. Octavia, distracted, looked between them, her eyes narrowed.  “What are you three talking about?”

“Your brother’s illustrious ski instructor skills,” Clarke breezed.

Octavia grinned.  “I told you he was good, didn’t I?” She added an overlong wink that made Clarke want to throw her tray in her face.

“Okay, enough,” Raven cut in. “Aren’t you always the one saying you don’t want to know anything about your brother’s sex life?”

“Yes.  But Clarke’s face is just so _worth it_.”

Clarke glowered.  Bellamy put a hand on her knee under the table and squeezed.

The rest of lunch passed in easy camaraderie and it was time to go back outside before Clarke was entirely ready for it.  Her knees creaked and her muscles yelled out in protest as she stood, Bellamy’s hand on the small of her back.

“You good?” he asked.

“I think so.”

“There’s a hot tub at the hotel,” Gina said, “we could all go after dinner?  It’d help your muscles, Clarke, and I could use it myself.”

Octavia’s grin was too wide for Clarke’s liking.

“Sounds great,” Clarke said.

The rest of the afternoon was easier.  Clarke stopped falling every time she tried to turn and she managed to avoid running into Bellamy every ten minutes.  Octavia texted Bellamy at four to tell him that Lincoln and Gina were heading back to the hotel but she and Raven were staying out a bit longer to make a few more runs. He hesitated for the briefest of moments before Clarke told him to stay.

“Have some fun, Bell, you can’t be expected to babysit me all day,” she told him before she started the trek back tot he gondola.

“I don’t mind,” he replied.

“Yeah, well, go have some goddamn fun with your sister.”

“They’re just going to harass me. Octavia keeps complaining that we’re not ‘couple-y’ enough in public.  And you know what Raven’s like.”

She patted him on the shoulder.  “You’ll be fine, Bell.”

He heaved a long sigh.  “All right, all right.”  He paused.  “I’ll be back soon, though okay?”

“Don’t worry about me, I’m going to go take an entire bottle of ibuprofen and take a bath.”

“Don’t drown yourself, Anya would never forgive me.”

“I’ll write a note saying it was all my fault and that killing you would be counterproductive.”

He flashed her a small smile.  “You think of everything, princess.”

“Bye, Bellamy.”

He turned to push away and she called out, “Hey, Bell?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I, uh, can I tell Gina?”

He looked over his shoulder at her, eyebrows knit. “If you want to.”

“Thank you.”

He smiled.

 

Lincoln disappeared as soon as they got back to the hotel. Gina invited Clarke back to her room and Clarke went, thankful she didn’t have to ask.  Her and Bellamy’s lies have been weighing heavily on her lately, especially since Gina and Raven trusted them with the truth about their relationship.  And Gina was Clarke’s friend, as bizarre as the idea might have once seemed, and she didn’t like lying to her friends.

“You want to watch TV or something?” Gina asked when they were both seated on the bed.

“I, uh, actually wanted to tell you something,” Clarke said, halting.

Gina’s eyes were on her in a second.  “What is it, Clarke?” she asked when Clarke stumbled over her next words.

“It’s about me and Bellamy.”

“Are you guys okay?”

“Yeah, we’re, uh, we’re great.”  She swallowed.  “Shit, I don’t know how to say this.”

Gina waited.

“Our relationship.  It’s…well, it’s a publicity stunt.”

Gina stared.  “I’m sorry?”

“Marcus asked us to do it.  Well, told us, really, back when we were still filming.  He said it’d be good for ratings, blah blah.”

“I see. Well, you fooled me.” She paused. “Raven and Octavia know, don’t they?”

“I can’t lie to my best friend.  And I couldn’t ask Bellamy to lie to his sister.”

Gina nodded.

“I’m sorry we lied to you.”

She waved a dismissive hand. “Don’t even worry about it.  I understand.”

They were both quiet for a long moment.

“He loves you, though, you know,” Gina finally said.

“And I love him.  As, you know, a friend.”

Gina leaned forward. “Clarke, I don’t know you well enough to know if that’s true.  But he’s a good man.  Falling for him wouldn’t be the end of the world.”

“I appreciate that.  But we’re just friends, Gina, really.”

She pushed back the memory of Bellamy’s cheekbone under her fingers, his breath spiraling against her skin.   _Friends_ , she told herself.   _You’re friends._

“All right.” She settled back. “But I’m here, all right?  If you need to talk.  About anything.”

Clarke allowed herself, for a brief moment, to think about opening up to Gina, to telling her the truth, or what she thought might be the truth.

_I like him.  I like him too much.  I like him so much sometimes I get lost in it._

But she couldn’t do that.  Not when it might compromise whatever it was she and Bellamy had.

“I’ll remember that.  Thank you, Gina. Really.”

“I take it Lincoln doesn’t know?”

“No.  He doesn’t.”

“Thank you for trusting me, Clarke.”

Clarke waved a hand.  “I felt like it was time that you knew.”

“Forgive me if this is an awkward thing to say but it doesn’t feel like you’re faking, you know that right?”

Clarke chose her next words carefully.  “That is the point though isn’t it?”

“Clarke, do you remember what I said to you when we got coffee?  And talked about Bellamy’s and my relationship?”

“Yes?”

“I didn’t say what I did, that Bellamy looks at you differently than I’ve ever seen him look at someone else, to make you feel secure.  I said it because it’s true.”

Clarke groaned.  “You’re starting to sound like Octavia.”

Gina laughed. “Well, we are the two people in the world who know him best.”  She nudged Clarke gently.  “You ever start to think that maybe she’s onto something?”

Clarke bit her lip. “I don’t think I can let myself think that.”

Gina mulled that over. “For what it’s worth...even if everything were to go to hell in a handbasket, even if he doesn’t return your feelings...he’s not the type of guy that lets that get in the way.”

“You’re assuming that I have feelings for him.”

“Please, Clarke, I’m not blind.”

“I--”

Gina held a hand up.  “I’m not saying you’re in love with him or anything.  And it’s certainly not my place to guess how strong those feelings are or to tell you to act on them, but I know there’s something there.”  She paused. “What you do about them is your business just don’t let an opportunity like Bellamy slide through your fingers because you’re scared.”

“I’m not scared.”

Gina smiled and elbowed her lightly. “You have every right to be.  Breakups like your last one leave scars.”

“Yeah,” Clarke agreed.  “They do.”

“Look, it’s fine if you don’t want to talk about this.  I get it.  All I’m saying is think about how you really feel and what you really want and then decide. If all you want is to be Bellamy’s fake girlfriend until Marcus tells you you can stop, then great.  Even if nothing else happens between the two of you, I can see how strong your friendship has gotten.”

Gina’s phone chirped.

“They’re all heading back,” she told Clarke.  “Raven and Octavia talked Bellamy into getting drinks at the bar and they want to know if we’re interested in joining them.”  
“I’ll meet you down there, I just want to grab my jacket out of the room.”

“Sure thing, Clarke.”

Clarke didn’t actually need to grab her jacket.  That had been a lie.  She sagged against the wall of the elevator and put both hands over her face.

 _In, out_ , she thought to herself.   _Breathe in, breathe out._

She felt simultaneously lighter and heavier after telling Gina.  It had felt to get the truth off her chest, but at the same time, Gina’s advice couldn’t have come at a worse time.  Clarke had been spending so much of her time lately reminding herself that all she and Bellamy ever would be was friends putting on a masquerade.  She didn’t want to hear about how he looked at her differently, or how he might actually have feelings for her.  Let alone think about the well of what might have been butterflies that fluttered inside her stomach every time he looked at her with that crooked smile of his.

 _But maybe,_ she thought as she got in the elevator again and pushed the button for the lobby, _I can just pretend._

The other five were already in the bar, gathered around one of the high-top tables.  Clarke slid into the empty chair between Bellamy and Octavia to a chorus of, “hey, Clarkes” and Bellamy’s arm sliding easily around her waist.  
“Hey,” he whispered into her ear.

“You have fun?”

“Without your dead weight dragging me down?” he joked.  “Absolutely.”

She pinched him and he grinned, then passed her a drink on a napkin.

“Whiskey sour for the lady.”

“Thank you.”

From across the table, Gina gave her a meaningful look that Clarke pointedly ignores, deciding to take a massive swig of her (albeit extremely strong) drink instead.

 

ginamartin added a new photo

Day one on the slopes: great, prospects of walking tomorrow: not great. @ravereyes @clarkegriff @bellamy_blake @thebestblake @lincolnwoods #whistler #skication

 

Dragging herself out of bed and the room the next morning was a struggle.  Her muscles were screaming in pain and the idea of putting those goddamn boots back on and trying not to fall over again for eight more hours was exhausting.

Bellamy, who was also limping a little but trying to hide it out of his typical stoicism, was quiet in the elevator.  It wasn’t until they got to the lobby that he quietly said, “I was thinking about making today a half day.  Coming back around lunchtime, maybe walking around the village or something if you want to.”

Clarke shot him a sideways look.  “Don’t sell yourself short today just because of me.”

“I’m not,” he said.  “I don’t honestly know if I can do a whole day without tearing something,” he admitted with a small laugh.

Clarke grinned and nudged him. He winced a little. “Not such a strong guy, after all are you?”

“It’s been a while, okay?”

“I’d like that.  To do a half day,” she added at his confused look.

He nodded. “Great.  Not that I don’t love my sister but I need some time away from her if I’m going to stay sane.”

“We’ll tell everyone that’s the reason and not because you can’t walk straight.”

“I absolutely can walk straight,” he protested.

Clarke smiled again. “We’re going across the lobby at a diagonal, Bell, you’re tracking left.”

He swore.  A tight-lipped mother of four a couple feet away gave him a scandalized look.  Clarke and Bellamy both laughed.

“What do you say to trying out a real hill today?” he asked her when they were halfway to the gondola.

“I kept falling on my ass on the bunny hill, I don’t think I can handle a real one.”

“You’ll be fine.”

Clarke rolled her eyes.

“We’ll do a green, something really easy, I promise.”

“You’re the teacher.”

“Does that mean you’ll even do it without sassing me?”  
“Hardly.”

“How naive I was to hope.”

She grinned but didn’t get the chance to respond before Octavia appeared out of nowhere and jumped on Bellamy’s back.  “Oof,” he swore as he staggered sideways.  “O, get off.”

She just tightened her grip as Lincoln came up next to Clarke, Raven and Gina not far behind.

“Your brother’s an old man now, Octavia, give him a rest,” Clarke called, smiling at Bellamy’s scandalized look at being called old.

Octavia hopped off and smacked Bellamy on the shoulder. “Sure sure.”

They set off as a group towards the gondola.

“I am in so much pain,” Raven announced after a long break.

“You’re not the only one,” Clarke agreed.

“Octavia and I outdid ourselves a bit yesterday,” Lincoln added.  “I think we’re going to take it easier today.”

“Speak for yourself,” O grumbled and Lincoln chuckled.

 

clarkegriffindaily:

Clarke and boyfriend Bellamy Blake with a fan while on vacation in Whistler, British Columbia on December 19th, 2016.

#clarke griffin #bellamy blake

 

Clarke did better than she’d been expecting on the run Bellamy chose, a green one with an easy slope and a handful of corners.  The others joined them for a bit at the beginning of the day and Bellamy and Octavia taught them all a human slalom game that Bellamy had used to teach Octavia back in the day.

Bellamy and Clarke decided to call the day quits around 11:30.  Raven showed signs of wanting to head back down the mountain with them but Octavia and Gina lured her into agreeing to a couple more runs with the offer of cash winnings for whoever got to the bottom of their next run fastest.

They had their gondola to themselves on the way back and they sat on opposite sides.  Clarke watched the trees fall past them as they traveled down and tried to ignore Bellamy staring at her.

“You have snow in your hair,” he said finally.

She brushed it out.

“There’s still a bit--” he leaned forward and she felt his fingers, still warm from the warmers inside his gloves, against her temple, then the soft crunching sound of snow and a cold rivulet of water streaking towards her eye. He wiped it away with a touch so gentle she barely felt it.

“Thanks,” she mentioned.

“No problem.”

He returned to his side of the gondola and looked out the window.  She forced herself to do the same.

They changed at the hotel and then went to lunch.  Enough people were still on the slopes that they had no trouble getting a table in the almost empty restaurant.  Bellamy disappeared behind his menu as the waiter poured them water and Clarke took off her hat, straightening her hair into a semblance of neatness.

“My treat,” Bellamy told the menu, so quiet that Clarke almost didn’t hear him.

“Sorry?” she asked.

“I said, my treat,” he repeated, only slightly louder than before.

“Bellamy.”

He lowered the menu and fixed her in a glare over it. “Seriously, Clarke.”

She felt a small smile tug at her lips. “It’s not like we’re on a date or anything.”

It wasn’t until the words fell out of her mouth, until she saw the smallest of dark shadows flit across Bellamy’s face, that she realized they very well could be, if this was a different universe, if they were a different Bellamy and Clarke.

“You’re right,” he said gruffly.

“No, Bell, I’m sorry, that was rude.”

He looked at her over the top of the menu again, eyes puzzled.

“If you want to buy me lunch I guess I can’t really say no to that,” she added.

He held her gaze for another long moment and she knew that he was reading what she couldn’t say--that in that other universe she’d maybe reach across the table, take his hand, and tell him the truth.

“Great,” he said and disappeared behind the menu again.

Clarke smiled to herself and opened her own menu.

Later she had to admit to herself that it did feel an awful lot like a date, even more so than the fake ones they’d gone on at home to throw the paparazzi and their occasionally stalker-ish fans off their trail.

Bellamy’s hand was never far from the small of her back, he held her coat up for her when they got up to leave the restaurant after lunch, and he had insisted on paying, going as far as to literally snatch the bill out of the waiter’s hand before Clarke could even think about fighting him on it.  They shared a hot chocolate as they wandered through a gift shop and Clarke tried not to think about how every brush of their fingers together sent a zing of something through her.

By the time they got back to the hotel to meet the others for dinner, it was getting harder and harder to pretend.

 

The _Gen Super_ cast’s Christmas party took place at Jasper and Monty’s three days before Christmas Day.  Octavia, who somehow managed to wrangle an invitation, insisted that everyone wear ugly holiday sweaters and Raven declared that anyone who didn’t show up with alcohol wasn’t going to be let in the door.

The result was a boisterous event during which everyone drank absolutely too much but had a proportionate amount of fun.  Clarke had never been to an Ugly Sweater Party before and spent a good portion of the evening on the loveseat crammed between Miller and Wells, taking in everyone else’s antics.

Jasper had dug a karaoke machine out of somewhere and was slowly challenging everyone to use it.  Everyone stopped when he got to Murphy, who gave him a look that could have melted steel but accepted the microphone anyway.  Jasper crowed in victory and disappeared in the kitchen in search of more alcohol.

Monty was next, then Wells, then Gina and Octavia who did a rousing duet of “Single Ladies” that earned them a standing ovation.  Clarke went to the bathroom after that and came out to a nearly silent room.  Bellamy was standing in front of the karaoke machine, looking sullen like he’d just lost an argument, holding one of the microphones.  The other was in Octavia’s hand, who was grinning at Clarke like the cat who caught the canary.

“I don’t sing,” Clarke said bluntly.  “You know this.”

“Come on, Clarke, it’s Christmas,” Jasper slurred.

“Seriously, you can’t be worse than Harper,” Miller added then yelped, probably because Harper had shoved him into Monty’s lap.

Clarke sighed.  “Fine.” She took the microphone from Octavia. “What are we singing?”

Bellamy refused to look at her as Octavia’s grin only grew wider and Raven pressed play.

Familiar notes came out of the machine and Clarke groaned.  She was going to murder all of them.

 _“Seriously?”_ she demanded.

“Come on, Clarke, you’re going to miss your cue!” Jasper yelled over the swelling intro of “Breaking Free” from _High School Musical_.

She heaved a sigh and looked at Bellamy.

“Ready?” he asked with the smallest of smiles.

“To commit murder?  You bet.”

It shouldn’t have been a surprise to anyone that Raven taped the whole thing and posted it in their cast group chat the next day.  If Clarke wasn’t so hungover she might have done something about it.  Instead, she just flopped over and decided to go back to sleep.

 

Bellamy appeared on Clarke’s doorstep bright and early Christmas morning with coffee, donuts, and a neatly wrapped present.

Clarke let him in and went to collect his present from her room.  When she reentered the living room, he was on the couch, Paisley already wrapped around his ankles and purring madly, food on plates and coffee in mugs.

“Thanks for bringing breakfast,” she said as she inhaled the warm aroma of her coffee.

“No problem.” She held out his present.  “Might as well get this started, yeah?”

“Sure.” He took it and ripped into the wrapping paper.

He laughed when he read the cover of the book-- _The Idiot’s Guide to History’s Best Conspiracy Theories._

“I saw that in Barnes and Noble and thought of you,” she said in explanation.

“It’s great,” he told her, grinning.  “I can’t wait to read it.”

He passed her his present next and she slid a finger under the tape. “This is very nice wrapping,” she told him. “Did Octavia do it for you?”  
“Please,” he muttered.  “She’s a terrible gift wrapper.”

“A man of many talents,” she mused.

“You already knew that,” he said and she smiled then slid off the rest of the paper. On top was a sketchpad and underneath it was a framed photo of them, taken on their second day in Whistler, a picture Clarke had almost forgotten about in the mad dash that always led up to Christmas.  Bellamy had his arm around her and she was offering him a bite of a caramel apple.  They were both grinning and she might have been blushing.

“Bellamy,” she said quietly.

“You’re a hard person to buy things for, you know,” he said quickly before she could finish her sentence. “Raven told me you liked drawing and I just figured, you know, it might be nice to have a memento of--”

She launched herself at him, already halfway through the movement before she knew she was going to do it.  His arms came up around her immediately.

“You like it?” he asked, sounding a bit unsure.

“I love it,” she whispered into his neck. “Especially the part where you asked my best friend what to get me.”

His laugh was a small huff of air against her neck.  “I wanted it to be something you’d like.”

“Well, I do.  Thank you, Bellamy.”

She pulled away but didn’t take her hands away from his shoulders.  They were closer than Clarke had meant them to be, so close that she could count the individual freckles on his nose, close enough that she could see his eyes were actually three shades of brown, mingling into the dynamic color that she couldn’t quite name.  Close enough that--- _think about what you really want_ , Gina’s voice said in her mind, and then decide _._

Clarke hesitated.  She should pull away.  She should say thank you again and pull away and offer to make hot chocolate and give Bellamy the remote to pick something on TV.  She should pretend her heart wasn’t fluttering in her chest and she wasn’t aching to look at Bellamy Blake’s lips, that she wasn’t imagining what they’d feel like against her own.  She should do what she’s done since they started this whole thing and pretend that she doesn’t lie awake at night sometimes wishing he was next to her, should should should.

But maybe Clarke was tired of doing what she should do.  Tired of following the rules, tired of being careful, tired of thinking about what could be.

So she did what she knew she shouldn’t do.

She leaned forward, farther into Bellamy’s space, heard his breath catch, and felt his eyelashes sweep across her cheek as his eyes closed.

She did what she shouldn’t do. She pressed her lips to Bellamy Blake’s and kissed him.  And it was better than any of her late night daydreams, better than she ever could have imagined, as his hand came up to cradle the back of her neck and tangle in her hair and his mouth parted against hers and she felt like finally she could breathe again.

Her hand moved from his shoulder to the side of his neck and once again she felt his pulse beat there against her fingertips as he kissed her again and again and his lips curved against hers in a smile that she never wanted to forget.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come find me on [Tumblr!](http://rebelprincebell.tumblr.com)


	5. Chapter 5

“Hey, Clarke, could I have one of these yogurts?” Raven yelled from the kitchen.

“Yeah, go for it.”

Raven reappeared in the living room and threw herself onto the couch.  “I didn’t think you liked yogurt.”

“It’s Bellamy’s.”

“You shop for him now?”

Clarke snorted.  “Of course not.  I just buy him yogurt.”  A pause.  “Stop looking at me like that.”

Raven shrugged.  “Fine, fine.  This is good, though.”

“He gave me a list of acceptable brands.”

Raven laughed. “Sounds like him.”

Clarke pet Paisley aimlessly.  For once, the cat purred into it.

“You and Gina have a nice Christmas?”

Raven’s smile was wide and bright.  “Yeah, it was great.  Quiet, but great.  What did you and Bellamy do?”

Clarke’s throat went dry.

Bellamy’s hand on the back of her neck, fingers threaded through her hair.  Her own fingers tracing along the his collarbone through his shirt, wishing she was brave enough to duck under the fabric.  And most importantly, Bellamy’s lips on hers, soft yet demanding, coaxing out feelings that Clarke had been pretending she didn’t have since Marcus had first asked them to start the whole charade in the first place.

Raven was staring at her. She cleared her throat. “Nothing special. Exchanged gifts, watched some Netflix.”

“Ah, yes, your recent historical documentary binge.  Octavia told me,” she added in response to Clarke’s questioning look.

“The traitor,” Clarke replied breezily and Raven laughed.

Clarke’s phone chirped on the coffee table.  She swiped it before Raven could get a good look at the screen, somehow knowing that it would be Bellamy.

They hadn’t spoken since the afternoon on the 25th, when she’d shown him out, still feeling a bit breathless and consumed with the knowledge that she needed to get Bellamy out of her apartment or she was going to do something stupid that she might regret.

It was two days later and she was still convinced she might do something stupid that she might regret.

_Bellamy: can we talk?_

Clarke stared at the text, simple yet menacing.

“If you need me to clear out, I can,” Raven said and Clarke jumped.

“No, it’s fine.”

> **CLARKE** _: I’m out right now, does tonight work?_
> 
> **BELLAMY** _: Sure_

Clarke put her phone back on the table, screen down this time, and let out a long breath.

“You okay?” Raven asked cautiously.

“I’m great,” Clarke said.  “Just great.”

“Your mom bothering you again?”

There was concern written all over Raven’s face and Clarke hated that she was lying.

 _No,_ she wanted to say.   _I made out with my fake boyfriend on Christmas and it felt real and I want to do it again_.

“Yeah,” she said instead, grasping for the life preserver Raven didn’t even realize she was offering.  “Something about me not coming to Christmas again.”

This was not, in fact, a lie.  Abby had been blowing up Clarke’s messages with thinly veiled passive aggressive messages about how Clarke didn’t put enough effort into their family.

“You never go to Christmas with them,” Raven pointed out.

Clarke shrugged.  “Something about this year felt different.  I think she actually expected me to go and…”

“And bring Bellamy?”

Clarke sighed.  “Yeah.”

“That’d be a party.”

Despite herself, Clarke laughed. “I’ll say.”

“She must be really thrilled that you can’t make it to her annual ‘let’s show Clarke off’ party in DC this year.”

Clarke’s eyebrows knit together.  “I mean I wasn’t planning on going but it’s not like I _can’t_.”

Raven stared at her. “Holy shit, you forgot.”

“Forgot what?”  
  
“Octavia’s wedding?”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Clarke muttered.  “Fuck, it’s that weekend isn’t it?”

“How did you manage to forget that we’re all going to Mexico for five days?”

“Slipped my mind?”

Raven rolled her eyes.  “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

“Please don’t tell Octavia that I forgot about the most important day of her life.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Clarke babe.” She checked her watch.  “Shit, I’m late.”

“Hot date?”  
  
“I wish.  Meeting with my agent.”

“That’s fun, though!”  
  
“Not when they’re throwing bullshit indie scripts at you that shoot in fucking Montana.  I have literally zero interest in ever going to Montana, Clarke, and yet my agent insists.”

“Montana’s not that bad.”

“It is when the producer wasn’t able to find enough money to book the crew and the cast into a hotel so you’re going to have to sleep in a tent for six weeks.”

Clarke made a face. “Okay, yeah, no Montana then.”

Raven scratched Paisley once, drained her glass of water on the coffee table, and crossed to the door. “Say hi to Lover Boy for me, and I’ll see you guys soon, yeah?”

“I thought I told you to stop calling him that.”

Raven wrenched open the door and winked over her shoulder.  “Oh, you definitely did.”

Bellamy showed up on her doorstep at five with awkwardness written all over him.

Clarke, who had spent the last three hours since Raven left cleaning the apartment with wild abandon, wasn’t doing much better.

“Hey,” he said quietly as he stepped inside.

“Hi,” she replied.

She was painfully aware that this was the first time they’d been in the same room since he kissed her.  Or she kissed him.  Or they kissed each other.  The semantics weren’t that important.  The butterflies swooping around in Clarke’s stomach, on the other hand, were.

“What did you, uh, want to talk about?”

Bellamy crossed to the couch and sat.  His hands were linked in his lap, knuckles white with tension.  Clarke made herself sit next to him.

“I wanted to talk to you about Christmas,” he said slowly.  “About what happened at Christmas.”

She’d known, of course, that this was why he was here.

“Right.”

A heavy silence descended between them.

“I wanted to ask where you stand on what happened between us,” he said finally.

“Where I stand?”

“On the kiss, Clarke.” He sounded vaguely exasperated.

“Right.”

He shot her a sideways look.  She chewed on her lip.

“I don’t know what you want to hear, Bellamy,” she told him.

“I want the truth.”

The truth.  Clarke was scared of the truth.  Something told her Bellamy was, too.

“I think that it complicates things,” she said slowly, watching him.

He nodded once.

“I’d even say unnecessarily.”

He jerked the smallest amount. “What do you mean?”  
  
“I mean that you and I are finally on solid ground.  I mean, sure we have been for months but that’s after years of animosity and all that bullshit, you know?”  
He looked at her.

“I don’t want to lose our friendship because of a one time thing that might have been a mistake.”

“A mistake,” he repeated.

She scrubbed her hands through her hair.  “Or, I don’t know, maybe not?  I don’t _know_ , Bellamy, I _just don’t know_.”

Another pregnant pause.

“Whoever would have thought that faking a relationship for half a year would make things this complicated,” Bellamy said drily.

Clarke laughed.  “A totally unexpected development,” she added and he grinned.  Her stomach swooped.

 _Bad_ , she thought. _Bad bad bad bad bad._

“I know this sounds ridiculous and like something out of every soap opera ever,” she began, “but you’re too important to me to think about throwing away what we have on something that might not even work.”

“You don’t think we’d work?”

“I’m a mess, Bellamy,” she said bluntly.  “I’m fucking great at hiding it but I’m a mess.  And I don’t want to put you through that.  I don’t want to put _anyone_ through that, but especially not you.”

“You can’t handle everything on your own, Clarke.”

She shrugged.

“I can try.”  She took a breath. “What do you want?”

She made herself look at him, even if she was scared of what she might find in his eyes.

“It’s been so long since someone asked me that,” he said quietly.  “That I don’t know how to answer it anymore.  Is that bad?”

“No.”

He chewed on his lip. She focused on the crooked seam of his jeans, suddenly unable to look him in the eye, worried about what she might see there if she did.  “I want to respect what you want,” he said finally.  “And if you think this would be too difficult, or if it’s not something that you want, then that’s that.”

 _That’s not what I meant_ , she wanted to say, the words screaming to burst out of her. _That’s not what I want._

“It’s for the best, I think,” she said finally and the words sounded strained to her ears.

He nodded once, brusque and all business.

“Right.  Then I should get going.”

She followed him off the couch, arm outstretched to catch his.  He pulled away when her fingers made contact with his sleeve and she cringed back. “You don’t have to--”

“Please, Clarke, I’m just going to go home, alright?  I’ll see you at the TCA Press Tour, okay?”

“Okay,” she said quietly.

And then he was gone, and Clarke fell back onto the couch, feeling somehow like he’d taken a part of her with him.

 

gensuperdaily:

The cast of _Gen Super_ attends the CW’s Television Critics Association Winter Press Tour on January 8th, 2017 in Beverly Hills, California.

#gensupercw #clarke griffin #bellamy blake #raven reyes #jasper jordan #nathan miller #monty green #harper mcintyre #john murphy

 

gabrielsayers:

 _“We’ve been completely blown away with the response we’ve gotten to_ Gen Super _so far and as someone who’s put so many years of labor and love into building this show into what it is today, I truly mean it when I say that myself and the cast are so thankful for each and every one of you who turn the TV on each week and decide to watch our show.  The landscape of media today and of television today is so dynamic and just so large that the fact that we’re one of the CW’s biggest shows this year in our first season is an incredible honor.”  
_ \- Marcus Kane at the CW’s TCA Winter Press Tour

#gensupercw

 

 _“Sugarcoated typical-CW fluff is not something that anyone in their right mind would call popular freshman drama_ Gen Super _but that doesn’t mean that showrunner Marcus Kane_ ( _of_ Arkadia _fame_ ) _is done pushing the envelope._

_‘We have an opportunity to do things with this show that I don’t think comes around all that often,’ Kane said, referencing the show’s frequent forays into tough topics that media aimed towards a young adult audience tends to shy away from. ‘Teenagers and college-aged kids aren’t idiots.  They see what’s going on in the world and they’re in a much better place to understand it than most of us adults are.”_

_Kane went on to add that the CW was on board with a more realistic take on the college experience from the get go and put up little resistance when he pushed for weaving racism, sexism, xenophobia, and fear of the unknown into the very fabric of_ Gen Super _, a show that has been heralded by many as progressive for its diversified cast and accurate portrayals of people of color and persons on the LGBTQ+ spectrum._

Gen Super _is the story of eight college freshman who, after a particularly crazy night during orientation week, discover they possess supernatural powers and find themselves smack-dab in the middle of a far-reaching scientific conspiracy.  The first half of the show’s first season found the kids building an uneasy alliance, with feuding hotheads Lena Meier (Clarke Griffin) and Gabriel Ayers (Bellamy Blake) at the helm._

_‘The first half of the season was kind of about laying out the pecking order,’ Kane said.  ‘We’ve seen Lena and Gabriel fight for control and finally decide that this whole thing would be a lot easier if they just work together but they’re both too stubborn to really cede power into this completely shared endeavor so we’ll see them struggle with always trying to one up each other.  Plus, we’re going to start seeing some dissention from the ranks, some other characters that maybe don’t like being told what to do and think they might be better off on their own.’_

_Kane ended_ Gen Super’s _panel with some teasing about what’s to come, saying that if fans loved the first half of season one, then they’re going to love the second half even more. ‘It’s darker for sure,’ he added, ‘but I think it has to be, we constantly have to up the stakes here.  These kids have unearthed something that they don’t really understand and they’re just now starting to follow the roots of this conspiracy over their powers and where they came from and who’s responsible for them back to the source.  We’ve been dealing with fringe antagonists up to this point and the closer they get to the nerve center of this thing, the more formidable those enemies are going to get.’”_

(“ _The CW’s_ Gen Super _Is Only Going to Get Realer (and Darker)”_ The Hollywood Reporter, Web.

 

Variety @Variety

@GenSuperCW boss @MarcusKane talks incredible fan reaction and heightened stakes for the back half of season one at #TCA17.

 

Sitting next to Bellamy on the stage at the TCA Press Tour had been awkward.  Standing next to him on the red carpet, with his arm around her waist and that easy smile on his face like nothing was wrong was downright painful.

Clarke hadn’t seen him since he’d walked out of her apartment looking like all the air had been punched out of his lungs.  That was two weeks ago.

Thankfully Clarke was able to divert the concerns of Raven, Octavia, and Gina, all of whom had noticed that Clarke and Bellamy were barely speaking, by insisting that she was just busy with preparations for _Miles Past Sunset_ , the indie feature she’d landed that would soon start shooting in Toronto.  But before she got to disappear to Canada for five weeks, she had to awkwardly hold Bellamy’s hand at the TCA Press Tour and deal with the whirlwind of drama that always led up to the People’s Choice Awards.

Raven cornered her in the bathroom after _Gen Super’s_ presentation finished and Clarke was too tired to push past her.

“Okay,” Raven said when she’d decided that Clarke wasn’t going to try and make a run for it.  “What the fuck is going on between you and Bellamy.”

Clarke opened her mouth.

“And don’t you dare tell me it’s nothing, I can see right through that bullshit,” Raven added.

Clarke’s teeth snapped back together.

Raven took a step forward and squeezed Clarke’s arm. “Seriously, Clarke, what’s going on?”

“We’re just in the middle of a fight, I guess,” Clarke said finally.

“His fault?  Or yours?”

“Mine.  Definitely mine.”

And it was her fault.  She’d run over the conversation they’d had, the things she’d said to him, 9,000 times after he’d left and it had taken every fiber in her being not to call him and beg him to forgive her.

She could see the irony looking back.  She’d told Bellamy what she did because she was terrified of wrecking the friendship and camaraderie they’d so painstakingly built over the last however many months but she’d carelessly bulldozed right through it on accident with blunt words she hadn’t really thought through.

“Are you going to fix it?” Raven asked.

Clarke’s eyes narrowed. “You aren’t going to ask me what I did?”  
  
Raven shrugged. “It’s not really any of my business is it?  If you wanted to tell me you would have already.”

“I want to fix it,” Clarke said slowly. “But I don’t think I know how.”

“Well do it soon,” Raven said.  “If you go to Toronto for five weeks without dealing with this first I’m not sure he’s going to want to listen to you when you come back.”

 

TVLine.com @TVLine

@GenSuperCW will return February 7th at 9 PM with six episodes to round out its first season.

 

gensuperdaily:

 _Gen Super_ 1x08 “Impasse” synopsis:

“The limits of Lena (Clarke Griffin) and Gabriel’s (Bellamy Blake) budding partnership are tested when Mason (John Murphy) decides to take his own path. Iris (Raven Reyes) and Andrew (Monty Green) receive some new and damning information about the source of the group’s powers. Nathan Miller also stars.”

#gen super cw #episode synopsis #1x09

 

Clarke couldn’t get Raven’s words out of her head for the next week and a half.  Her days were a blur of early wardrobe fittings for _Miles Past Sunset_ , coordinating with Anya over last minute flight details for her trip to Toronto, trying to figure out what dress she was going to wear to the Teen Choice Awards, and pretending she wasn’t avoiding Bellamy.

The latter wasn’t particularly difficult, since by all accounts he seemed to be avoiding her, too, but her guilt still gnawed away at her in the darkened hours when she no longer had busy work to occupy herself with.  Her insomnia, which hadn’t made an appearance since college, was back in full force, bringing with it images of Bellamy Blake--his laugh, his smile, those damn dimples.  The way he’d looked at her after they’d kissed.

Clarke rolled over with an angry huff.  If this continued she was going to die of exhaustion or stress before she was ever forced to talk to him again.

Raven was right, though, and she knew it.  She did have to talk to Bellamy, and soon.  The issue was that she had no idea what to say.  She couldn’t even explain her feelings to herself, let alone another person.

Octavia forced her hand two days before the TCAs.  Clarke’s phone pinged with a text from her at eight PM: “bar tonight?  Lincoln’s out and I’m bored” and, simply for lack of better things to do, Clarke agreed.

Octavia texted her the address to a dive out in the Valley that Clarke had never heard of, but there was easy parking, and she had a feeling this was the kind of place she could walk into and not be recognized.

The guy at the door gave her ID a cursory look and let her inside with a casual, “have a nice night, ma’am.”  The interior was smoky and dark, Clarke’s favorite, but she picked out Octavia, sitting at the bar and knocking back the last sip of an old fashioned, easily.  Octavia waved and elbowed someone next to her in the next breath.

Clarke almost tripped over her feet when that someone leaned around Octavia and revealed himself to be Bellamy.

Of course.

Clarke squared her shoulders and kept walking, sliding onto the stool on Octavia’s other side, suddenly wishing she hadn’t driven.  It would have been nice to have been able to actually drink tonight.

She gave the bartender her order and slid over her debit card to pay then turned to Octavia, who was watching her with barely concealed interest.

“You talked to Raven?” Clarke asked.  Octavia didn’t answer but Clarke got all the answers she needed from the look in the other girl’s eye.

“I’m going to run to the bathroom,” Octavia announced and slid off her stool, leaving Clarke and Bellamy with a small expanse that might as well have been the width of the Sahara between them.

Bellamy took a long swallow of his beer and Clarke tried to look away from his throat working and the way his fingers wrapped around the glass.  “She thinks she’s smooth,” he said a moment after he put the glass back down on the counter.

Clarke swallowed.

He looked at her, chewing on his lip.  “You doing all right, princess?”

She almost laughed.  “Why are you asking me that?”

He shrugged. “You’re not looking so good.”

She traced a finger around the rim of her glass. “The last time we talked I shut you down.  I said some things I probably shouldn’t have….and _you’re_ asking _me_ if I’m okay?”

“I’m not that delicate, Clarke,” he replied and drained the rest of his beer.

“No, but I’ve been ignoring you for weeks.”

“And I’ve been ignoring you for weeks.” He smiled at her.  “I got over it.  You were honest with me and you don’t owe me anything.  Not that I ever did in the first place,” he corrected quickly. “But what you said...I’m not used to people being that blunt with me, it took me off guard.”

“But now?” she asked quietly.

“I spent all that time we were ignoring each other to think some things over and you were right.  I don’t want to throw away what we have.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair.  “You’re, like, kind of my best friend, Clarke.  I don’t want to let go of that because of one tiny thing.”

 _Tiny_ , she thought.   _Like there was anything tiny about that kiss_.

“Okay,” she said.  “So where, uh, where do we go from here?”

“Well,” he said slowly.  “In two days we go to the Teen Choice Awards, where you’re going to win an awesome award and I’m going to shower you in praise like every good boyfriend does.”

She laughed and looked down at the table, suddenly unable to look him in the face, not when there was a tiny voice at the back of her mind screaming at her to tell the truth.  To him or to herself, she wasn’t quite sure.

“Octavia’s never coming back from the bathroom, is she?” Clarke asked after another moment.

Bellamy chuckled. “No.”

“Was this her idea or yours?”

“Both.”

She rolled her eyes.  “I should have known.”

“She and Raven were planning some kind of intervention though, I saw the messages on her phone.”

“You check your sister’s texts now?” Clarke asked, incredulous.

He made an undignified noise. “Of course not.  Mine was out of battery and I needed to check something.”

“Right, sure, Bellamy.”

“I’m serious!”

She laughed and took another sip of her drink.  And he effortlessly scooted over onto Octavia’s vacated seat as the bartender slid him another beer.  And for the first time since Christmas, Clarke felt as though her universe was righted again.

 

ravereyes added a new photo

Here we come @peopleschoice!!! @clarkegriff

bellamy_blake, ginamartin and 300 others liked this

 

Marcus Kane @MarcusKane

Can’t be at the PCAs tonight but I’m still cheering on our nominee! @cgriffs

 

Though they’d all tried, most of the cast hadn’t been able to work the People’s Choice Awards into their schedules.  Miller was still in Georgia, Monty was in Vancouver again for a guest starring role on a network show, and Jasper’s agent had already booked him for another publicity event on the same night.  That left Raven, Bellamy, Clarke, and Harper standing on the red carpet smiling as flashbulbs went off in their faces.

Bellamy’s arm was comfortably around Clarke’s waist again, fingers splayed against her hip, and breath gently ruffling the updo Raven had carefully crafted that afternoon when he leaned in close to whisper something in her ear.

Clarke had been carefully avoiding Raven’s pointed questions about their making up all evening, mostly because she knew they were going to lead to a line of questioning that she didn’t want to answer--namely whether their brief stint of not speaking had led to their relationship developing into something real.

 

JustJared.com @JustJared

Bellamy Blake and Clarke Griffin arrive together to the @peopleschoice red carpet.

 

It was a weird feeling to be in a crowd of her peers and have the whispers follow her for a change.  Clarke was used to being the one who got starstruck, or stared after someone famous after they’d walked past her.  But this time, it was the other B and C level stars who’d garnered nominations who were staring after her as she passed, whispering things like “that’s Clarke Griffin.”

“This is weird,” she muttered into Bellamy’s ear after the fifth occurrence and he just grinned.

“Don’t like feeling famous, Griffin?”  
  
“Okay,” she said, a bit cross. “Firstly just because you’ve been moderately famous for longer than I have doesn’t mean you get to bring that condescending tone in here.”

“Oh?” he asked, eyebrows raised.  “And second?”

“I didn’t actually have a second.”

His grin widened and he slung an arm around her shoulder, pulling her into their aisle.  “You’re a special something, Clarke Griffin.”

“And you two are gross,” Raven added as she dropped into the seat on Bellamy’s other side.

Harper, looking significantly more demure, took her seat next to Clarke. “Leave them alone,” she chastised.

“I’m helping them build character,” Raven shot back.

Clarke scoffed. “No,” she said.  “You do it because you like watching me blush.”

“And you look so cute when you do.  Doesn’t she, Bellamy?” She elbowed him in the side.

Bellamy cleared his throat.  “Sure does,” he said quietly, also blushing, though that might have had more to do with the way Raven was looking at him than the words he’d said.

Raven grinned wider.  “Anyway, I made brackets.”  She reached _into_ the bodice of her dress and pulled out four folded pieces of paper.  Bellamy stared, aghast, and leaned slightly away.

“I’m not using a piece of paper that you stuffed _down your dress, Reyes_.”

“What?” she asked, looking confused.  “It’s not like it’s been anywhere you haven’t.”

Bellamy choked.  Harper and Clarke burst into laughter.  Someone behind them coughed like they didn’t approve.

“We are _in public_ ,” Bellamy hissed back when he’d recovered enough of his faculties to respond.

“Please,” Raven replied. “Everyone in this room knows that you and I had a thing.” She leaned in and patted his cheek.  Bellamy looked like his head was going to explode.

“Literally what do I have to get you to shut up.”

“Tell me where Clarke buys you those yogurts?”  She bit her lip. “And how did you get her to start buying you food? I’ve been trying to get her to buy me this bread for years and she just won’t--”

“That’s because that bread is fucking disgusting, Raven,” Clarke snapped back.

“Is this the weird seed bread shit she eats?” Harper asked.

Raven rolled her eyes.

“Literally you’re the only person in LA County that still eats that stuff,” Clarke told her.  “And I can’t even believe _you_ eat it.”

“For real we’re at the first ever awards show that any of us have been nominated for and you’re talking about the kind of _bread_ that Raven eats?”

“People are staring at us anyway, we might as well give them a reason,” Raven smiled.

Just then Joel McHale tripped out onto the stage and Clarke felt, more than saw, Bellamy heave a sigh of relief.  “Thank God,” he muttered.

Raven elbowed him. “You can try my bread any time you want, Blake,” she whispered into his ear.

Bellamy stiffened. “Was that an innuendo?”

Raven adopted a fake aghast look. “In front of your girlfriend?  Bellamy, I would _never._ ” Her sincere tone was ruined by her wide grin.

Clarke carefully reached over and wove her fingers through Bellamy’s. She squeezed his hand. He relaxed against her.

“Hey, there, LA, how y’all doing tonight!” the host yelled from the stage.

Clarke rolled her eyes.  “This is going to be a long night, isn’t it,” she muttered.

This time Bellamy was the one who squeezed her hand. “Oh, absolutely, but at the end you’re going to have a weird looking statue and we’re going to go to a great after party and celebrate.”

“That’s awfully presumptuous of you, my category’s stacked.”

“And you’re going to win,” he said simply.  “I know you are.”

An hour and a half later they were getting closer and closer to the sci-fi/fantasy categories.  Then Sam Heughan was up on stage accepting his award for favorite actor in the category and Clarke felt like she was going to chew through her fancy new manicure that Octavia had talked her into getting the day before.  Only Bellamy and Harper’s consoling hands on each of her arms stopped her.

“And the nominees for Favorite Sci-Fi/Fantasy TV Actress are…!” The presenter took too long of a pause.  Clarke was going to sweat out of her skin. “Caitriona Balfe, _Outlander_ , Emilia Clarke, _Game of Thrones_ , Jennifer Morrison, _Once Upon a Time_ , Millie Bobby Brown, _Stranger Things_ , and Clarke Griffin, _Gen Super_.”

Clarke swallowed.

“And the winner….is Clarke Griffin for _Gen Super_!”

Clarke hadn’t processed the words before Raven and Harper were out of their seats, cheering, and Bellamy was grinning from ear to ear, squeezing her hand and trying to tug her out of her seat.

“Get up there!” Harper hissed in her ear and that’s when it clicked.

“I won?” she managed.

“You won!” Bellamy affirmed, his grin widening.

“Holy _shit._ ”

“Come on, babe, go!” Raven said from Bellamy’s other side, pushing at her shoulder.

It was a miracle that she was able to stand up and she was immensely thankful that she shut down all of Raven’s pushing over Clarke wearing high heels.  She clambered out of the row and made her way down the aisle to the bottom of the stage.  A bouncer casually extended a hand and helped her up the stairs.  The walk across to the microphone seemed like it took both too much time and happened too quickly.  Before she knew it, there was a heavy trophy in her hand and she was being carefully directed to in front of the microphone.

Bright lights were shining in her eyes and the eyes of hundreds of people, plus a few cameras, were on her, but she found Bellamy immediately.  He was still grinning.

Clarke hefted the statue and tried to corral her thoughts.

“Wow,” she said finally, “I, uh, I honestly can’t believe I’m up on this stage in front of all of you with this.”  She paused.  “I didn’t bother to write a speech because I never dreamed that I’d be up here instead of any one of the incredible actresses who were also nominated in this category so this is probably going to be short and kind of incoherent.  I apologize.” She took a deep breath. “To everyone who voted for me--thank you.  I’m so glad that _Gen Super_ and Lena were important enough to you to vote for me.  I feel honored every day to be a part of something that’s trying to break down so many barriers and stigmas, especially in teen television.  Thank you, Marcus, for giving me the chance to be a part of this.  Thank you to my manager, who literally forced me to go to that audition.  And most of all thank you to my amazing costars, without all of you, Lena wouldn’t be who she is, I wouldn’t be who I am, and I certainly would not be up on this stage today.”

Applause.

Clarke smiled to herself and let the presenters lead her offstage into the wings.

“Great speech,” one of them whispered.

“Thank you.”

“The press room is over that way, they’ll sneak you back into your seat on the next commercial break.”

Clarke followed their pointing fingers into the press room and surrendered her statue to the engravers.  It still didn’t feel real, somehow, despite all the critical buzz the show and Clarke’s performance in it had been getting, she couldn’t reconcile that with the no doubts thousands of people who had taken the time out of their days to click a bubble next to her name, maybe multiple times.  But Bellamy had believed in her.  He’d never doubted, not for a minute since she’d been announced as a nominee.

“Here’s to this being the first of many,” the engraver said as he handed the statue back.  “Congratulations, Clarke, you deserve it.”

 

dailybellamyblake:

Bellamy Blake arrives with _Gen Super_ costars Clarke Griffin and Raven Reyes to the 2017 People’s Choice Awards after party at the Conga Room in Los Angeles, California.

#gensupercast #bellamy blake #clarke griffin #raven reyes

 

clarkegriff added a new photo:

He’s having so much fun, I promise. @bellamy_blake #congaroom #pca2017

 

Compared to the other afterparties Clarke had attended, the PCA one was intimate, probably only about 400 people packed into one of downtown LA’s premiere nightclubs.  There were trays of free champagne everywhere and hors d'oeuvres being offered up by waiters.  Clarke, Bellamy, and Raven had arrived early enough to claim one of the low furry couches interspersed around the room and, though she knew Raven was likely going to drag her out onto the dancefloor at some point, she was happy for now to just sit and watch, the two people who mattered most to her flanking her.

“I did tell you that you were going to win,” Bellamy whispered into her ear at one point, words slurring a bit, maybe from the champagne.

Clarke, who also had definitely not been going light on the alcohol, didn’t have it in her to make a joke.  “You did.”

“Do you think this would, like, change the way your mom thinks about you acting?”

Clarke rolled her eyes.  “I could probably manage and EGOT and she’d still tell me I should go to med school and marry a lawyer.”

“A lawyer?  Seriously, has she ever met a lawyer?  They’re boring assholes.”

Clarke gave him a look.

“They are!”

“Sounds like someone has some repressed childhood traumas.”

“Repressed childhood traumas?” Raven repeated, suddenly interested.

“Bellamy’s terrified of lawyers,” Clarke told her with a wide grin.

“I’m not _terrified_ of them, I just think they’re pretentious dicks who think they’re special just because they memorized a bunch of fancy books and recite them at people in courtrooms.”

“Bellamy,” Raven said slowly. “Please tell me that I don’t have to remind you that _you_ memorize a bunch of books and then recite them at people for a living.”

“Reyes, I don’t remember you being invited to participate in this conversation.”

“Jeez, someone’s feisty tonight.  Griffin, control your man.”

Clarke snorted into her champagne. “No can do, Rae, he’s got a mind of his own.”

Raven chuckled. “Don’t you just hate it when they do that.”

Bellamy rolled his eyes and stood abruptly.  He offered a hand to Clarke.  “Come dance with me.”

“What?” she managed, sounding a bit stupid.

He wiggled his fingers.  “Dance with me.”

“Why?”

“Because Raven’s driving me crazy.”

Clarke gave him a look.

“Okay, fine.  Because my amazing girlfriend just won an awesome award and we’re at a kickass afterparty and I refuse to let you sit here and drink too much champagne all night.”

“Like you also haven’t been drinking too much champagne.”

“Clarke, go dance with the man,” Raven said, exasperated.

“Jesus, fine,” she grumbled, sliding her hand into Bellamy’s.  His fingers engulfed hers immediately and maybe it was the champagne, or the adrenaline from winning still in her veins, but she felt her heart lurch to the side a bit more than usual when he touched her.

 _Get yourself together, Griffin_ , she thought, _this is not the place to lose your cool_.

Bellamy was grinning as he led her out into the mass of people on the dance floor.

The music was loud enough that she could feel it in her bones, but it wasn’t enough to drown out the feeling of Bellamy’s hands, warm against her back through the thin material of her dress.  Just an inch higher and his thumb would be brushing the exposed skin of her back.

She slid her own hands around his neck, careful and slow, luxuriating in the satiny feeling of his shirt under fingers and the muscles of his shoulders.  She’d touched him plenty there, both in their real life and during filming.  Casual touches, purposeful touches, accidental touches, but none of them had felt like this--terrifying and thrilling, and a bit like she’d just been struck by lightning.

“I know that there’s definitely a mood thing going on here,” Bellamy said after a moment, voice low and right in her ear.  “But what kind of shampoo do you use?”

Clarke laughed.  “My shampoo?”

He blushed a little and ducked his head.  His breath skated across her bare shoulder.  She fought the shudder that elicited.  “Mango right?”

“Tropical fusion,” she clarified.

“Fusion?”

“Don’t be judging, you’re the one that likes the way it smells.”

He chuckled again and pulled her a bit closer, his hand squeezing her back in a way that made Clarke’s breath catch.  His other hand found her hip and she swallowed.

“I’m sorry about what I said after Christmas,” she blurted.  As soon as the words were out of her mouth she wished she could take them back.

Bellamy froze under her hands.  Then relaxed, slowly, but there was still tension in his shoulders.  “What do you mean?” his voice was guarded, careful.

“I….” She stopped, then started again. “I wasn’t being entirely truthful with you.  You know how everyone always says that if you have a history of fucking up relationships, then it’s probably your fault and not your significant others’?”

“Clarke,” he warned.

“Well, that’s me.  I could be the textbook case for being bad at relationships. I can’t name a single one that hasn’t ended in disaster.”

“I’m sure that’s not true--”

“It is.  And I have the tabloid trail to prove it.  Bellamy...I’m not telling you this because I want your pity, I’m telling you this because I want you to understand why I can’t let myself imagine a relationship with you.”

She curled her fingers in his jacket and took a breath.

“Because I know I’ll screw it up.  And you deserve so much better than that.  You deserve better than me.”

“What if I want you?”

“You can have me, Bellamy,” she said quietly.  “Just not like that.”

He nodded.  There was a slight pause then he whispered, “okay,” so quietly that she barely heard him.

She tucked her head into his shoulder and he pulled her in closer and she let herself breathe.

“I’m sorry, Bellamy,” she whispered.

“Don’t be,” he said into her hair.  “I’d never sacrifice this for anything.”

 

Raven, exhibiting a rare case of self-control, didn’t say a single thing about anything she may or may not have seen out on the dancefloor.  Instead, she launched into a rambling story about everything she’d overheard since Bellamy and Clarke had left, and offered up another flute of champagne to go with it.  Clarke accepted it gratefully.

“I love being around drunk celebrities,” Raven said when she’d finished the story.  “The drama is just A plus.”

“And on that note,” Bellamy said, “I’m going to find the bathroom.”

“You love it!” Raven yelled after him.  “He loves it,” she told Clarke after he’d disappeared into the crowd.

“Uh huh,” Clarke said, taking another sip of her champagne.

“You buy your dress for Octavia’s wedding yet?”

“Took it in for alterations last weekend.”

Raven nodded. “I’ve never been to Mexico.”

“Okay,” Clarke said. “ What’s with the small talk?”

“I’m just--”

“You’re stalling.  I know you, Rae, what’s going on?”

“You and Bellamy just looked awfully close out there, that’s all.”

“You were the one yelling at me last week because we weren’t talking to each other and now you’re interrogating me because we are?”

“Someone’s on edge.”

“I’m not--”  
  
“Clarke, for God’s sake, chill out.”

Clarke opened her mouth, then closed it.

“It’s almost March, you know,” Raven said slowly.

Clarke froze.  “I am aware of what month it is, thank you.”

“Have you and Bellamy talked about what you’re going to do?  When it comes to…”

“Us breaking up?” Clarke finished.

“Well, yeah, to put it bluntly.”

“No, we haven’t.”

Raven studied her face.  She must have seen something there because she nodded and immediately switched the subject.

“So you won’t believe what I heard in the bathro--can we help you?”

Clarke looked away from Raven to a dark-haired guy who looked like he’d walked off the stage of a 90s boy band concert, complete with floppy bangs and a smile that he probably thought charmed girls nine ways to Sunday.

“You’re Clarke Griffin, right?” he asked.

“Everyone just watched her walk onstage and accept an award,” Raven said, deadpan. “That doesn’t work right now, buddy.  You can go, neither of us is interested.”

He laughed and it sounded a little self-conscious. “Sorry, I know it was a really shitty conversation-starter but...ah, fuck it, I’m a big fan of both of you and your work.” He flashed them a blinding grin and added, “Finn Collins, nice to meet you.”

Clarke accepted his outstretched hand and shook it.  “Nice to meet you, too.”

 

TVLine.com @TVLine

The CW renews Gen Super for a second season: Lena and Gabriel’s merry band of misfits will return to America’s screens this fall.

 

 _“Riding on the coattails of lead actress Clarke Griffin’s unexpected win the People’s Choice Awards in the Favorite Sci-Fi/Fantasy TV Actress category, triumphing over fan favorites Caitriona Balfe and Emilia Clarke, the CW announced late last night that Marcus Kane’s_ Gen Super _, currently halfway through its first season, will return for a second in the fall._

 _Griffin, Bellamy Blake, Raven Reyes, Monty Green, John Murphy, and Nathan Miller, are all slated to return for the second season in starring roles.  Harper McIntyire and Jasper Jordan will also return in their previous roles as returning guest stars. Gina Martin, who was brought on as a guest star in the two-part season finale has reportedly been upped to season regular for the second season, leading to speculation over her role in the series, which the network and writers have kept under wraps since her casting was announced.  Due to recent comments from Marcus Kane about the show delving deeper into the mysterious Scion, the group that_ might _have given the the show’s stars their powers, the Internet has been speculating that Martin will be portraying one of the show’s ‘big bads.’_

Gen Super _joins already renewed_ Supernatural, Legends of Tomorrow, The Flash, Arrow, Supernatural, _and_ Jane the Virgin _among the ranks of the CW’s returning shows as the networks head into the beginnings of pilot season.”_

(“Gen Super _Renewed for Season 2 at the CW.”_ _Hypable. Web.)_

 

Logically Clarke knew that Toronto in February was going to be cold.  But she hadn’t been physically prepared for just _how_ cold.

She’d felt it from the second that she got off the plane, dragging her carry on up the jetway--that bone deep cold that she’d heard people talk about but had always assumed was a lie.  So now here she was, standing on the curb of airport arrivals outside baggage claim, clutching her two suitcases, in the heaviest coat she owned, shivering, fingers barely connecting with the right keys as she tried to text Bellamy.

> **CLARKE** _: I hate this city already_
> 
> **BELLAMY** : _What’s wrong?_
> 
> **CLARKE** _: It’s FUCKING FREEZING_
> 
> **BELLAMY** : _hahahaha_
> 
> **BELLAMY** : _Have fun, princess ;)_
> 
> **BELLAMY** _: I’ll call you tonight?_
> 
> _****_ ****CLARKE** ** _: Please!!_

A cab pulled up and Clarke hauled her suitcase off the curb.  The driver grabbed it from her and she slid into the front seat, hissing at the cold leather against the backs of her thighs.

“Is it always this cold?” she asked when the driver swung back into his seat.

He flashed her a wide grin.  “Where you from?”  
  
“Southern California.”

He just laughed and pulled away.

Clarke heaved out a breath.

“Right,” she muttered.  “Okay.”

 

 _Miles Past Sunset_ started principal photography the next day bright and early.  Despite three Oscar nominations and a frosty reputation, director Indra Gleason was surprisingly friendly.  She and Clarke had met briefly during the final round of auditions but Clarke hadn’t been able to get too strong of a read off her.  But on a set, her home turf, so to speak, Indra was a force of nature, and one that was mesmerizing to be around.  Clarke had been on her fair share of sets in her life but Indra and her 1st AD ran one of the tightest ships Clarke had ever seen.

Clarke was shuttled into hair and makeup within ten minutes of getting out of the car and it was there that she first met Echo Banks, renowned Canadian indie actress with a list of credits that would make anyone’s head spin.

The rest of the main cast was one of the reasons that Clarke had been both so hesitant to work on the film and shocked when she’d been offered the role of its lead.  Echo was a common name on the festival circuit and it was common knowledge that she was offered big Hollywood blockbuster roles on the regular, only to turn them down.  The rest of the main cast--Zoe Monroe and Roan Leeds, though not as famous, each had dedicated fans and were independent feature favorites.  Clarke, on the other hand, had barely dabbled in film for a handful of years before switching exclusively to television.

“You must be Clarke,” were the first words Echo said to her as soon as Clarke sat in her chair. She held out her hand to shake and Clarke accepted it.  “Pleasure to meet you.”

Her handshake was firm and her smile tight but there was some kind of warmth behind her eyes.  Clarke forced herself to relax.

“You, too.”

“You adjusted to the weather yet?”

Clarke let out a rough laugh. “No.  I don’t think I will.”

Echo’s smile widened.  “Down jackets are the key.”

“I’ll remember that, thank you.”

Echo settled back in her chair.  “I’m excited to work with you, Clarke, I really admire your work.”

Clarke froze.  “Seriously?”

“Uh, hell yeah?  I’m honestly so glad _Gen Super_ got renewed becuase I just _know_ that the season going to end on a massive cliffhanger and I couldn’t handle not knowing.”

Clarke grinned down into her lap.  “Is Marcus’ writing really that predictable?”

“So it is a cliffhanger!  I honestly didn’t know, I was fishing.”

Clarke rolled her eyes.  “Well, that’s all you’re getting out of me.  I signed miles of NDAs and Marcus would literally have my head.”

“We wouldn’t want that.”  She leaned closer.  “But I’m so curious about Lena’s character, are we going to get to see more about her?”

“Like her backstory?”

“Yeah.”

“As long as you promise not to out me I’ll tell you that the second half the season has a handful of flashbacks that might answer your question.”

Echo grinned at her.  “Yes, awesome.  Also, seriously when are Lena and Gabriel going to make out, the sexual tension is off the charts.”

“Unfortunately that’s not in the cards.”

“Yet?”  
  
“Not as far as I know.”

“Damn.”

 

ravereyes added a new photo:

doesn’t feel right to watch #gensuper without our leading lady! (miss ya, clarke) @bellamy_blake @thebestblake

clarkegriff and 350 others liked this

 

A week and a half into shooting Clarke still wasn’t used to the weather but the down jacket she’d bought with Echo one one of their afternoons off was definitely helping.  As was the scarf that one of the wardrobe PAs forced on her after she saw Clarke shivering uncontrollably between shots.

After spending so much time working with Bellamy, Raven, and the rest of the _Gen Super_ cast it had felt a bit weird at first to try and meld her acting styles with those of her three costars, but with Indra’s careful direction and after getting to know the rest of the actors in their spare time, things were starting to come together masterfully.  Indra was Clarke’s favorite kind of director, the one who watched her actors carefully and noted their strengths and weaknesses, and was able to perfectly walk the sometimes indistinguishable line between giving helpful direction and being too overbearing.

She was also enjoying spending time with her costars, especially after the other two greeted her similarly to Echo.  Zoe Monroe, whose career Clarke wasn’t particularly knowledgeable about, but who was a _kickass_ actress, was also a giant _Gen Super_ fan and they spent a lot of the time they spent together between takes talking over characters’ motivations and why Clarke thought Marcus and the writers had decided to take the show in the direction that they did.  Roan Leeds, meanwhile, was quiet and reserved, but exuded an inner warmth that made Clarke take to him almost immediately.  Compared to how chatty Echo could be, Clarke relished the time she spent with him if only because it was often passed in silence.

Clarke’s character, Kate, was also part of the reason she thought filming was going so well.  From the minute she’d first read the script, she’d begged Anya to do everything in her power to get her audition, and she’d poured her heart and soul into preparing after she’d gotten the role.  Kate was, to be frank, a disaster, and after playing Lena, who squashed down her emotions into almost nothing, for seven months, Clarke was loving the opportunity to be someone who let their feelings leak out of them in waves.

 _Miles Past Sunset_ was raw in a way that forced her to expose more of herself in the character than she normally would have been comfortable with, and certainly more than she ever would have agreed to prior to the Lexa breakup.

“Part of her feels like me,” she told Bellamy on the phone one night.

“How so?” he asked.

She rolled over and looked at the clock.  It was past 2:30 AM, and the city was quiet outside her hotel room.  “Like, you didn’t know me after Lexa and I broke up, but I just felt like I was in all these pieces, like she broke me, and I couldn’t figure out how to put myself back together.”

She paused for a long minute but he stayed quiet.  The only sound was his breathing, rhythmic and familiar, in her ear.

“It was like there were these tiny strings of whatever holding me together and if someone looked at me too hard they’d break.  And then Clarke would be gone.  That’s what Kate feels like to me.  Like she’s just been beaten up so many times by so many people that she doesn’t even know where to begin with putting herself back together.”

“Is it helping you?” he asked after another moment and for a second she hated how he always knew what to ask.

“I think so.”

“Good.”

“With the deeper stuff.  I knit myself back together on the surface months ago.  But there’s still something deep that’s not quite right.”

“You’re perfect, Clarke,” he replied, so quiet that she almost didn’t hear him.

“You shouldn’t say things like that,” she said softly.  “It makes it hard to remember that we’re pretending.”

It was easier to say things like that to him over the phone, when they were separated by thousands of miles and the border between two countries.  When Clarke still had two weeks of shooting left and they were wrapped in the shroud of secrecy that late night and early morning conversations brought.  When she didn’t have to look at the way his eyes shone when he looked at her, and the way his lips curved up in a smile that seemed to be reserved just for her.

“I’m sorry,” he said after another pause.  “But I’m glad that it’s helping.”

“I’m getting paid for therapy,” she joked and he huffed a small laugh.  “That was a bad joke, I’m sorry.”

“I miss you,” he said honestly.  “Am I allowed to say things like that?”

She sighed and pressed the phone closer to her ear. “I miss you, too, Bell.  But I’ll be home soon.”

“Good.  Raven’s been driving me insane.”

Clarke laughed.

“She keeps trying to get me to go out with her and Octavia.  I’ve been successful at putting her off so far but I’ve started having to use Murphy as an excuse and he could throw me under the bus at any time.”

“Desperate times.  Though I will say the margaritas at the place we usually go are _fabulous_.”

“I had a bad experience with tequila in college and now I try to stay away from it whenever possible.”

“Bellamy, we _all_ had a bad experience with tequila in college, that’s like a right of passage.”

He laughed.  “I’ll see you in two weeks right?”

“Yeah,” she said softly.  “I can’t wait.”

“Me neither.”

 

Clarke Griffin @cgriffs

Bye, Toronto! You’re really cold but I had a great time.  I will be back!!!

 

TMZ @TMZ

Clarke Griffin spotted at Los Angeles International Airport on March 13, 2017.

 

“Welcome back to LA, Miss Griffin,” the customs agent said as he stamped her passport and handed it back.

“Thanks,” Clarke said, smiling.

She was bone tired in a way that she hadn’t felt in a long time.  The last week or so of filming had been brutal as they reached the film’s climax and she was worn out not only physically but mentally.  Plus she’d been on and off planes and in airports for what felt like days, as she’d flown from Toronto to Vancouver and then connected down to LA with a two hour long pitstop in Winnipeg due to unforeseen weather conditions over Manitoba.

But she was finally home and she was going back to her apartment and crashing on her couch and not leaving her apartment again until they had to leave for Mexico the next week for Octavia and Lincoln’s wedding.

She fought her way through the crowd pooled in front of the gate and hated herself for how her eyes immediately went to the crowd of clamoring relatives and friends, some holding signs, all craning their necks for their loved ones.

But there he was, standing front and center, hands shoved in his pockets, eyes trained on the doors to customs.  Clarke saw the exact moment he spotted her--his eyes lit up and his face broke out into a wide grin and _god, she’d missed him so much how did she not realize how much she’d missed him_.

Clarke had always hated the people in movies who literally ran across airports to hug people but here she was, practically sprinting across the baggage claim area of the international terminal at LAX, and Bellamy was opening his arms to her and then she was in them.  His arms were around her, and he was solid and familiar and warm, and he smelled like she remembered and he was whispering, “hi, princess,” into her hair and _god, she’d missed him._

Bellamy drives her home and she stares out the window at the familiar line of palm trees marching against the cotton-candy colored sunset and she relaxes into the seat.

“How was your flight?”

“Atrocious.”

He laughed.

“It’s good to be home though.”

“Just because it’s warmer here, though, right?”

“I mean, obviously, what else do I have to look forward to here.”

He grinned and she had to physically force herself to not trace the line of his jaw with her eyes.

It was almost like she’d desensitized herself to Bellamy while she was away.  Like now that they were together again it was all hitting her in full force--how attractive he was, how much she loved his laugh.

“I’m surprised Octavia and Raven didn’t come with you to the airport,” she said after a long moment of quiet.

“I asked them not to,” he said simply.

She stared.  “What?”

He shot her the briefest of looks before turning his eyes back to the road.  “I wanted to have you to myself for a little while, I guess.  Plus, I figured you’d be tired and not really in the mood to listen to Octavia ramble on about wedding shit for forty-five minutes.”

She smiled.  “Thanks, Bell, I appreciate that.”

He nodded sharply.

The rest of the drive passed in comfortable silence.  Bellamy pulled up in front of Clarke’s building and shifted into park.  She opened her door and looked down at the red curb.

“Are you not coming in?”

His mouth opened and closed. “Did you want me to?”

She rolled her eyes.  “Come _on_ , Bellamy, I haven’t been able to watch any of _America’s Book of Secrets_ in weeks because it’s not on Canadian Netflix.”

“And you’d watch it without me?”

“Exactly my point.  Go park your damn car somewhere it won’t get towed and I’ll meet you upstairs.  Okay?”

He smiled.  “Okay.”

She closed the door, pulled her suitcase out of the trunk, and watched him pull away.  Something in her chest felt warm and Clarke knew, logically, that she had a problem.  But as she rifled through her purse for her keys and unlocked the front door, she decided that she didn’t need to think about that right now.  Not when she’d been promised an evening of sitting on the couch in her pajamas, watching conspiracy theory documentaries with her favorite person.

 _“You’re, like, kind of my best friend_ ,” he’d said that night at the bar and it had shocked her down to her core.  Because she’d kind of known.  She’d kind of known that she and Bellamy were past the realm of acquaintanceship and that they’d blown through regular friendship.  But it hadn’t been until he’d said that that she’d realized he was right.

He was her best friend.  And maybe late at night, when she had only her deepest secrets and the shadows in the corner of her room for company, she’d let herself think about how she might be hopelessly in love with him to boot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come find me on [Tumblr!!](http://rebelprincebell.tumblr.com)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As per usual here is my trademark apology about how long it's taken me to write this chapter. But my personal/off the Internet life has been really crazy and hectic lately (and will continue to be) and I don't want to half-ass this fic. I appreciate all of you being so patient and understanding with me. <3 <3 <3
> 
> I basically wrote half of this chapter in six hours between yesterday and today and it became my personal mission to finish it tonight so I could finally share this next part with all of y'all. I hope it lives up to your expectations.
> 
> And to all of the lovely readers who have been leaving me comments here and who have come into my ask on Tumblr -- THANK YOU! I see you and I so appreciate you. Your enjoyment of this story is one of the main reasons I'm so motivated to see this version of Bellamy and Clarke through to the end. And I promise I'm going to try and get better at actually responding to comments.

Two days after Clarke got back from Toronto she was on another international flight, this time to Mexico, sandwiched into a middle seat in the exit row between Bellamy and Jasper, who spent the entire three hour flight talking her ear off about the girl who lived next door that he had a desperate crush on.

Octavia, a row behind them, was prattling on to Harper about how difficult it was to find a good florist, while Lincoln and Bellamy were talking about something Clarke thought might have been sports-related over the back of Bellamy’s seat.

“Why don’t you just ask her out?” she interrupted and Jasper stopped, reeled for a minute.

“What?”

“This Maya chick.  Why don’t you just ask her out?”

He gaped at her.  “I can’t just upset the natural order of things, Clarke.  A guy like me doesn’t just ask a girl like her out.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Ask your boyfriend.”

Clarke just rolled her eyes.  Jasper reached across her to sock Bellamy.

“--9 and 0 this season so… Jesus, Jasper,  _ what?” _

“I was telling Clarke about Maya and--”

“Still?”

“Okay, that hurts, but I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear it.  Anyway, she told me to just ask her out and I need you, as a fellow bro, to back me up here.”

“Jasper, we’ve had this conversation. I asked you to stop calling me your bro in public.  Anyway, I  told you to ask her out months ago.”

“Oh.  Right.”

Clarke laughed.

“Seriously, Jasper, the only thing standing between you and Maya going on a date is you.”

“And maybe the freestyle canoeing videos,” Clarke muttered.  Bellamy burst out laughing.

“I told you about those  _ in confidence!”  _ Jasper hissed.

“Our living room at 2 in the morning without headphones is not confidence.”

“Whatever.  Roommate code, dude, roommate code.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Jasper opened his mouth to continue but thankfully the intercom dinged and the pilot’s voice filtered out over the speakers.

“All right, folks, we’re circling in for our final descent into Cancun.  Should be just about fifteen minutes now until we’re on the ground.  Please make sure your tray tables are stowed and your seatbacks are in their upright and locked position.  Thank you for flying Delta today and we hope to see you again soon.”

The scuffle to be the first person out of their seat and to the overhead bins momentarily distracted Jasper enough for Clarke to take a breather.

“Jesus,” she muttered.

Bellamy squeezed her shoulder.  “Thanks for taking one for the team, princess.”

“Right, because you all asked.”

Lincoln chuckled. “I’m sure we’ll all be doing our fair share of taking one for the team on this trip.”

“Hey,” Clarke pointed out.  “I’d feel a lot better about listening to him ramble on about a girl he’s probably talked to a grand total of once if I was sitting by a pool and had a pina colada.”

“That’s an easy fix.”

“Damn straight it is.  Octavia was damn insistent on this all-inclusive resort and I intend to make good use of the money I shelled out for it.”

They shuffled up the aisle and Clarke felt Bellamy laugh against the back of her neck.   _ One day _ , she told herself,  _ that’s not going to make you feel like this. _

The weather as they stepped out of the airport, lugging their bags, Octavia already trying to divide everyone up to get in cabs, wasn’t unlike what they’d left behind in LA and Clarke was glad.  They hadn’t gotten a hard date for the start of production on season two but it would be sometime near the beginning of June, only a handful of months away.

The resort was just as Octavia had promised--lavish and excessive but perfect for a destination wedding and a chance to get away from everything. They’d managed to wrangle rooms on the same floor and everyone trooped into the elevator together.  Miller, who was closest to the buttons and the only one with enough space to properly move his arms, pushed the button for the seventh floor.

Octavia, crammed in the corner, still managed to shout orders. “Remember, everyone, we have dinner reservations tonight at seven thirty in the main restaurant, dress  _ nicely _ or they will throw you out and make you change and we will probably lose our table.  If that happens I will yell at you and you don’t want that.”

The elevator dinged and the doors slid open.  Monty and Jasper squeezed out first, closely followed by Miller and Raven.

“ _ Seven-thirty!”  _ Octavia yelled after their retreating backs.

Clarke had been fighting a losing battle with Bellamy over whether or not she could pull her own suitcase since baggage claim at the airport so she barely even protested when he reached for the handle of her bag.

“Are you going to start carrying me around next?” she asked as she slid the room key into the lock.

He grinned. “I just might.”

The room was nice, a small kitchenette in the hallway leading into the bedroom, which opened onto a balcony overlooking one of the property’s four pools.

“What are the odds of your sister turning into even more of a Bridezilla while we’re down here?”

“High.”

Clarke groaned. “I don’t think I can take a repeat of napkin-gate.”

“Nah, if she blows up over something it’ll be Monty and Jasper showing up high to the rehearsal dinner.”

“You don’t think they managed to smuggle weed past customs do you?”   


He shrugged. “If anyone can do it, it’s them.”

“Unfortunately true.”

“So,what’ll it be, pool first or the beach?”

She smiled. “Now you’re asking the right questions.”

 

Clarke Griffin @cgriffs

Right, so this is why everyone is always going on about destination weddings.

 

The pina coladas were incredible and Clarke was on her second before anyone else appeared at the pool.

Raven dropped into the seat next to her, already rubbing on sunscreen and said, “I was looking for you guys at the beach.”

“I hate sand,” Clarke replied.

“You practically grew up on a beach.”

Clarke shrugged.

“It’s true,” Bellamy said from her other side. “I tried to get her to go to Venice with me one time and you’d swear I asked her to murder someone.”

“Venice is also gross,” Clarke pointed out.

“It has  _ character,”  _ Bellamy and Raven protested in chorus.

“I prefer my character to be cute and maybe a bit rustic and not ‘oh, shit does that dude have a knife.’”

Raven rolled her eyes. “Rich people.”

Bellamy chuckled. Clarke flagged down the waiter for another drink.

The rest of the day passed in a delightfully tipsy haze of laughter, friendship, and Clarke trying to make sure that Raven didn’t catch her admiring Bellamy in swim trunks.  She’s not quite sure if she succeeded on that front but sometime around him emerging from the pool, dripping water, flinging his hair out of his face like he was in a Corona commercial, she stopped caring.

Everyone was tired from the plane trip and, at Octavia’s urging, they all called it an early night after dinner and retired to their rooms.  Clarke took the second shower and wandered out, her hair still in a towel, to find Bellamy sprawled across  _ his  _ side of the bed, remote in hand, lazily clicking through channels.

It still surprised Clarke every time she thought it but it was true.  They had sides.  Even at home, when she was sleeping alone in her queen sized bed, she found herself sticking exclusively to the left side, leaving the right as pristine as when she made it, as if subconsciously she was waiting for Bellamy to slide in, whispering apologies about being late as he slipped under the covers.

It was stupid.  Entirely stupid, but still she did it.

“What’s on?” she asked as she hopped onto the bed next to him.

He stopped on something. “ _ Miles Past Sunset.”  _ There was a note of awe in his voice.  Clarke looked over to find him already looking back, a question in his eyes.

“Sure,” she said, sliding down and fluffing the pillows. “I haven’t watched it since the premiere.”

“This is going to be cringe worthy,” he said but selected the title anyway.

“Why?”   


“Because my acting back then was atrocious.”

“Not true,” she protested.  “I hated a lot of things about you but I always envied you.”

“Seriously?”   


“Seriously.”

There was a long pause.  Then he added, “Well, for the record, I was always impressed by you, too.”

She smiled and snuggled in closer.  His arm came up around her shoulders and pulled her in closer.  She inhaled, relaxing into his familiar scent.

“You know the nicest things to say to a girl, Bell.”

“You bring it out of me, princess.” He leaned down to kiss the top of her head.

 

thebestblake added a new photo

When you catch the older bro actually showing human emotions for once. @clarkegriff @bellamy_blake

clarkegriff, jazzyjordan, ginamartin, and 120,000 others liked this

 

gensuperdaily:

The cast of  _ Gen Super _ on vacation in Mexico on March 16, 2017 via Octavia Blake’s Instagram story.

#gen super cw #cast #clarke griffin #bellamy blake #raven reyes #nathan miller #monty green #jasper jordan #gina martin #john murphy

 

clarkegriff added a new photo:

I love these people more than my own life. #superforlife #mexico

natemiller, ginamartin, thebestblake, and 300,000 others liked this

 

Certain that left to their own devices her wedding guests would do nothing but sit by the pool and drink margaritas (“there’s nothing wrong with that!” Jasper had protested back in December), Octavia had organized a tour of a local Mayan site and herded everyone out to the tour bus at what most of the group was heralding way too early of an hour.

The rest of Octavia and Lincoln’s families and guests would be arriving the next day in time for the rehearsal dinner on the 17th, so O had been insistent on getting the cast out on at least one group trip before she was swamped by doting family members and the rest of her bridal party.

Despite growing up so close to Mexico, Clarke’s family had never taken trips there--her mother had instead preferred the white beaches and calm of the Caribbean and the Bahamas, so she at least was looking forward to the trip.

It was a long drive in a crowded bus with broken air conditioning but she had Bellamy next to her, reading random facts out of a guidebook he’d picked up in the hotel gift shop and Raven bitching about how no one cared, and Jasper covertly trying to take pictures when she rested her head on Bellamy’s shoulder, so there really wasn’t much she could be complaining about.

She was just days from watching one of her best friends get married, she was with the people she cared about most in the world, and in only a handful of months she’d get to go back to work on what had quickly turned out to be the most fulfilling project she’d ever had a hand in.  Things were good, the day was young, and she was ready to marvel over the building feats of the Mayan Empire.

“Did you know--” Bellamy started and Clarke turned, ready to listen.

“Yes, Bellamy, we get it, you’re a giant history nerd,” Jasper muttered from his other side.

Bellamy sputtered.  Clarke smiled and turned to look out the window. She reached for his hand and squeezed it.  He squeezed back.

 

jazzyjordan added a new photo

History nerd @bellamy_blake in his natural habitat.

ginamartin, thebestblake, clarkegriff, and 154,000 others liked this.

 

“You’re a real trooper, Clarke,” Octavia told her when they were a handful of hours into their tour.

Clarke just smiled and looked across the clearing to where Bellamy, holding no less than three guidebooks, was locked in an intense looking conversation with their tour guide about ancient Mayan sports practices.

“There are worse quirks,” Clarke answered.

“You’re just saying that because he didn’t force you to go on a cross-country tour of historic battlegrounds,” Octavia griped.  “Do you know what most battlegrounds look like, Clarke?   _ Fields _ .  With  _ signs _ .  That’s it.”

Clarke laughed.

“But he’d drag me out into this field and say, ‘O, this is where this person died’ or ‘this is where this war was won.’”

“Sobering, isn’t it?”

“God, I forgot you’re like just like him.”

“Octavia, I’m not the one holding up our tour and trying to read out of two guidebooks at once.”

O rolled her eyes.  “Whatever, fine, but you did let him drag you down the documentary rabbit hole.”

“They’re fascinating!” Clarke protested.

“Uh-huh.”

“I’m working the long game of getting him to watch reality TV with me.  You know, I watch historical things for him, maybe he watches  _ The Bachelor _ with me every once and awhile.”

“I thought  _ The Bachelor _ was your and Raven’s thing.”

“She watches it with Gina now.”

Octavia swooned.  “Oh, the impact of young love.”

“For God’s sake, Octavia, you’re younger than both of us.”

“Yeah, but I’m the one with a ring on my finger.”  She grinned and Clarke rolled her eyes.  After a pause she said, “And good luck getting my brother to watch reality television, he thinks it’s the Devil’s spawn.”

“I mean, he’s not wrong.”

Octavia just smiled.  Then added, “Anyway, who am I kidding.  If anyone could get Bellamy to watch  _ The Bachelor _ it’d be you.”

Clarke rolled her eyes.  “Come on, Octavia, it’s not like I’m the Bellamy Blake whisperer or something.”

Octavia gave her another of those looks Clarke was becoming intimately familiar with--the ‘oh, honey please’ one.  “Clarke, darling, there are very few things that my brother would not do for you.”  Her eyes focused on something over Clarke’s shoulder and her face brightened.  “Oh, that lighting is incredible I gotta go take a picture.”  And she was gone, leaving Clarke in the shade of a crumbling Mayan pyramid, and as Bellamy looked over at her and grinned, she started to think that maybe Octavia was right.

 

The rehearsal dinner went off with only a few minor issues, mainly Murphy “accidentally” stepping on Miller’s foot in the middle of Octavia and Lincoln’s practice vows, and Jasper completely forgetting that he was a groomsman until Raven physically grabbed him and manhandled him into line.

Clarke had been to her fair share of weddings, she had a lot of cousins and a couple of aunts who’d gotten remarried when she was in high school, but this was the first wedding she’d been to where someone her own  _ age _ was getting married.  Watching the way that Octavia smiled at Lincoln as Monty, who wasn’t part of the wedding party and had gracefully agreed to pretend to be their officiant, mimicked the ring exchanges, Clarke felt a piece of her settle.

Her gaze had shifted to Bellamy then, standing in his place beside Lincoln as the best man, watching his little sister beam with happiness.  His eyes locked with hers for just enough time to allow the briefest of smiles before he turned his attention back to Octavia’s runthrough of her vows, but it was enough to make Clarke swallow hard.

Marriage hadn’t been something she’d allowed herself to think of a lot.  She’d gone through the typical phases that most girls did, doodling fairy tale ceremonies in her diary and daydreaming out the person she’d marry one day.  But then her parents’ marriage had started to burst at the seams and then just crumble, when neither of them even cared enough to fight anymore, and her fantasy bubble had burst.  Watching most of her extended family go through messy divorces had only sealed the deal for Clarke--there was no such thing as a happy ending and she might as well stop dreaming about one now before she got hurt.

She couldn’t have said if all of her relationships failed because of this simple truth or if her belief in its accuracy was the reason for all of her romantic dead ends.  Standing on the altar next to Lincoln and Octavia, she started to suspect that it was a bit of both.  It wasn’t a stretch to call Clarke cynical, in fact, it was an identifier that she happily embraced.  Now, though, standing up there surrounded by people she cared about and who cared about her, she felt hollow, empty in the face of knowing that all of her friends cared and loved so deeply and so completely and she forced herself to pull back, if only because she was terrified of letting go.

_ What kind of life is that though?  _ a voice asked in her mind.

And Clarke didn’t have an answer.  Not when the light was reflecting down just perfectly across the crown of Octavia’s head, casting the perfect shadow against Raven’s face to highlight the swoop of her cheekbones, and to tease out the red in Gina’s hair.  Not when Monty was stumbling over his words and Lincoln was laughing and Bellamy was smiling.

Not when she was faced with everything she could have, if only she’d let herself fall.

 

Clarke Griffin @cgriffs

They’re official!!! Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Woods!!

 

bellamy_blake added a new photo

Congrats, little sister, I’m so proud of you.

clarkegriff, raven_reyes, jazzyjordan, thebestblake and 230,000 others liked this.

 

“She looks so happy,” Bellamy said at the reception, swirling the champagne left in his glass, smiling out at the dance floor.

Octavia and Lincoln were swaying slowly in the center of a crowd of couples in their own world, her head on his shoulder, arms around his neck.

“She is,” Clarke answered simply and Bellamy looked over at her.

“Do you like weddings, Clarke?” he asked abruptly.

She felt her brow furrow.  “I don’t know,” she said finally.  “I think there’s something magical about them...the idea that two people are merging their lives together, that you can care that much about another person.  But you know me, I’m scared of commitment.”  She said it like it was a joke but Bellamy’s face was serious.

“Yeah,” he said finally.  “Right.”

She let out a deep breath and turned her gaze back out to the rest of the reception.  “I’m sorry I’m a mess, Bellamy,” she told the air, too much of a coward to say it to his face. “If I wasn’t maybe this whole thing would be easier.”

“Maybe,” he said with a small chuckle.  “But you wouldn’t be you.”  He trailed off.  Still she refused to look over.  “Clarke, come on.”

She swallowed and turned her head.  The earnestness shining in his eyes broke something down in her.

“I like this version of you, Clarke,” he told her quietly.  “Faults and all.”

“That means a lot,” she told him and he smiled.

“I’m glad.”

“For what it’s worth….” She paused.  “I like this version of you, too, Bellamy Blake.”

His answering smile could have rivalled the sun and Clarke found herself slipping.

_ Fuck _ , she thought.   _ Help. _

 

Two hours and a chaotic conga line later, Clarke was drunk and being pulled out onto the dancefloor.  Bellamy had shed his tuxedo jacket at some point and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing the tanned skin that had only been further bronzed by a few days in the Mexican sun.  He was grinning, a little wildly, and Clarke stumbled into him when he spun her to a stop in the middle of the crowd of couples.

Sometimes it scared her how easily they fit together like this--his arm slipping around her waist, hers going around his neck, both of them using the slow beat of the song as an excuse for a desire to be close that both of them would probably deny.

Clarke had always been a fan of slow dancing, she liked the emotional intimacy that came with being so close to another person, carving out a moment in time just for her and them.  But there was something special about being close to Bellamy, about feeling his heartbeat under her hands, and his breath ghosting against her cheek, that made her never want to let go.

After the second time she tripped over his feet he laughed into her ear.  “Had a bit too much champagne, princess?”

She jabbed a finger into his ribs in answer.  He jolted and his hand tightened across her back.

“No.”  She swayed a little, betraying her words.

There was a grin in his voice when he asked, “You turn into a lightweight in Toronto on me, Griffin?”

“I may have had too much champagne.”

“Uh huh.”

She felt his smile pressed into her hair as he pulled her closer.  She let him, and tightened her arms around his neck.  “I like this,” she whispered into his shoulder.

“Yeah?”

“Being here like this.  With you.”

His shoulders tensed under her hands.

“Bell?”

“I don’t get you, Clarke,” he said after a second.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, we kiss at Christmas, I think great.  Then you tell me it’s not something you want.  So I think, okay, fine, whatever she wants is what I want.  But then you say shit like  _ that _ to me and I just...I don’t know what you want from me, Clarke.”  He paused.  “I’m trying to respect what you want and not push you but I can’t do that if I don’t know where the lines are.”

Clarke’s first thought was,  _ I’m too drunk for this conversation _ .

“I….” She stopped.  “I think that sometimes I get myself confused, twist things around in my head so much that I don’t even really know what I want.”

“That doesn’t help us, Clarke,” he said quietly.

“I know.  But it’s all I have.”  She looked up at him and her heart clenched at the look of concern in Bellamy’s eyes, concern for her, the woman who was putting him through the emotional wringer just because she couldn’t figure out her own life.  “I don’t want to say or do something I’ll regret.”

Hurt flashed through his eyes. “You regret…” he paused, clearly choosing his next words carefully. “Us?”

Clarke swallowed hard. “No,” she whispered.  “Never.”

He tipped his forehead onto her shoulder and she felt him exhale shakily.  “Shit, Clarke, come on, you’re not making this easy for me.”

She took a deep breath and, before she could over think it said, “Kiss me, Bellamy, please.”

His head snapped back up.  His voice was guarded. “What?”

Her eyes locked on his, an unwavering challenge and a request all at once. “Please.”

His hands came up to cup her cheeks and despite the blush she felt coloring her skin she forced herself to stare right back at him.

Bellamy was chewing his lip.  She saw the moment he made his decision, how the look in his eyes snapped from indecision to determination, how they flicked briefly down to her lips then back up to her eyes, still staring right back at him.

He leaned in, so slowly she thought she might be imagining it if it wasn’t for the thundering beat of his pulse against her skin.  Her eyelids drifted closed.  She felt drunk, she felt sober, she felt like she had on Christmas Day, like the whole world was opening up in front of her, and all she had to do was keep Bellamy Blake’s lips on hers.

 

Clarke Griffin @cgriffs

Happy finale night, everyone!  Thank you for all your support this season and we’ll see you again in the fall!

 

TVLine @TVLine.com

What to watch tonight: the season finales of The CW’s #TheFlash and #GenSuper.

 

ravereyes added a new photo

#GenSuperFinale watch party with my favorite people!!

 

The Hollywood Reporter @THR

@GenSuperCW finishes on a high note after a season of strong ratings.

 

Gen Super CW @GenSuperCW

Thanks for a great season everyone!  Here’s a “small” reward--the final pages of the finale! #gensuperfinale

(A/N: I know, what is this, 2007?  But here’s a character reference for the characters in this scene.  And please drop me a line in the comments or on Tumblr if you’d like to see more script excerpts!! Lena=Clarke, Gabriel=Bellamy, Iris=Raven, Camila=Gina)

 

“Did you see O’s honeymoon pictures?” is the first thing Raven asks her two days later when she shows up on Clarke’s doorstep out of the blue.

She pushed past a still-spluttering Clarke and throws herself down on the couch before Clarke even has a chance to formulate a response.

“Hi, Clarke, mind if I come in?  Oh, no not at all, make yourself at home,” Clarke replies sarcastically.

Raven flashes her a grin.  “Someone’s grumpy today.”

“I am not  _ grumpy _ .”

“You are.”  Raven sits up, puts her elbows on her knees and leans forward.  “I’d think you’d be in a better mood with what I saw at the reception.”

Clarke freezes.  It had been a relatively quiet few days marked by radio silence from her friends and cast mates about what had happened at Octavia’s wedding and a flurry of online fandom activity speculating after the finale.  Clarke realized now that this had probably been Raven’s plan all along--lulling her into a sense of false security.

“I’m surprised you didn’t coordinate a video call with Octavia to interrogate me,” she replied bitterly.

“I don’t want to interrogate you, Clarke, I just want you to talk to me.” She paused.  “Also Octavia doesn’t know.”

Clarke’s head shot around.  “What?  You didn’t tell her?”

Raven shrugged.  “She’s got enough stuff on her plate right now.  And I’d rather keep Bellamy out of this particular conversation.”

Clarke’s eyes narrowed.  Raven reached out to squeeze her forearm.

“ _ Talk _ to me, Clarke,  _ please _ .”

Clarke let out a long sigh.  “Okay,” she finally said, so quietly that she thought at first Raven might not have heard her.

She looked over to see that Raven’s mouth was hanging open.  She glared and Raven nodded.

“Right, sorry, I’m just… surprised?”   


“What, did you expect me  _ not  _ to tell you?”

“Every time I ask you shut me down, it’s not exactly an unfair conclusion.”

Clarke chuckled.  “Fair enough.  I, uh, I’m not good at talking about my feelings.”

“That much is obvious.  Or you’d be dating him for real by now.”  Raven paused again.  “Unless you are dating him for real?  And you just didn’t tell me?”

Clarke shook her head.  “No, our relationship is as fake as ever.”

Raven was quiet, watching Clarke’s face, waiting.

“We kissed for the first time at Christmas.”

Raven fell back into the couch.  “That makes a hell of a lot of sense.”

“Yeah,” Clarke said shakily.  “But I had feelings for him before that.”

“You love him?”   


“I don’t know.  But I care about him a whole hell of a lot more than I should.”

“Clarke, babe--”

“No, it’s true.  You weren’t around for Lexa but you were there for the ones before that.  Back when we first met.”  Clarke met Raven’s gaze, challenging.  “You remember.”

“I remember us being dumb kids, Clarke.  We’re not anymore.”

“Maybe you’re not.  But I’m just the same as I’ve always been when it comes to relationships.  Only capable of fucking them up right when things matter the most.”

Raven didn’t say anything for a long moment.  “What happened with Lexa?” she asked finally.

Clarke chewed on her lip.  “We got serious,” she said slowly. “And I got scared.  I get...possessive isn’t really the right word.  Jealous?  I don’t know.  I’m not good with my emotions.  It’s easier to just present myself as someone who doesn’t really have them, you know?  And then things get serious, they get hard, they get tough...and I don’t know how to suddenly be someone who has feelings and talk to my significant other about them.  So I keep bottling them up and bottling them up and then eventually….” She trailed off.

“You get into a screaming match in a restaurant in New York City and dump spaghetti down your girlfriend’s front,” Raven finished.

“Yeah,” Clarke breathed out.  “Exactly.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Raven said slowly.  “But I feel like there’s an easy fix for that?”

Clarke laughed.  “Yeah? Do tell.”

“Talk about your goddamn feelings from the beginning.  We all have them.  Anyone who doesn’t accept that isn’t even worth being around.  Or being  _ with _ , for that matter.”

Clarke swallowed.  “Feelings just get you in trouble.”

Raven squeezed her shoulder.  “I can’t change your opinion on that.  But please, Clarke, for both of you, just talk to Bellamy, all right?  No cryptic bullshit, just straight up, honest conversation about your feelings.  Because even I can tell that this is getting more complicated than either of you were intending.”

“I don’t want to lose him, Rae,” Clarke whispered and she hated how her voice broke.

Raven pulled her into a hug and it wasn’t until Clarke felt the soft material of Raven’s cardigan under her cheek that she let the first of the tears fall.

“You won’t,” Raven breathed into her ear.  “But you have to be brave, Clarke.”

“I don’t know if I can,” Clarke whispered back and Raven squeezed her tighter.

“Well either way you have to talk to him.”

Clarke straightened up and fixed her with a glare.

Raven raised her hands defensively.  “I’m not saying write him sonnets and serenade him outside his window.  But you have to have a conversation about the fact that this thing between you had an expiration date and you’re past it.”

Clarke swallowed.  “Yeah,” she finally muttered.  “I guess.”

“Or at least tell Kane what the fuck you’re doing.”

“My personal life isn’t any of Marcus’ goddamn business, Rae.”

“It is when it’s a fake relationship between his two leads.”  Raven stared her down.  “You know that without you two and the onscreen chemistry between you this whole show crashes and burns.”

Clarke bit her lip.  “That’s not going to happen.”

“I agree.  But you still owe him the truth, Clarke.”  She paused.  “If you won’t give it to Bellamy do the next best thing and give it to Marcus.”

Clarke almost recoiled from Raven’s words.  They were cold but true.  And part of her suspected that they were something she’d needed to hear.

“I’ll talk to Bellamy,” she finally agreed. “And we’ll decide if we go to Marcus or not.”

Raven nodded once.  “Good enough for me.”

 

They ended up deciding to go out to dinner.  The idea of having a conversation this personal, this emotionally draining, even with Bellamy, who arguably knew her better than anyone except maybe Raven, in the solitude of one of their apartments was too much for Clarke.  So instead she figured they’d run the gauntlet of a public setting if only to assuage her own nerves.

It didn’t help that Bellamy was the picture of calm and collected, having beat her to the restaurant and already been seated.  He put down his menu as she slid into the chair across from him and smiled.

_ One day _ , Clarke thought.   _ That’s not going to put butterflies in my stomach _ .

But that day wasn’t today and she forced herself to smile back before she picked up her own menu.

“That’s for meeting me,” she said to the appetizer section.

She nearly jumped out of her skin when one of Bellamy’s feet brushed hers under the table and when he didn’t say anything in response, she looked up.  He was staring at her intently, a line between his eyebrows, looking almost concerned.

“What’s up with you?”

“Me? Nothing, I’m fine.”  She took a breath.  “Why do you ask?”   


“Because right now you look like you’re considering running out into traffic.”

She laughed and even to her it sounded a bit desperate.

“Clarke,” he said slowly and reached out to touch her hand.  She hadn’t noticed until then that it was shaking a bit.  His hand was warm and the familiar feeling of his skin against hers helped her breathe a little.

_ This is why _ , she told herself.   _ This is why you can’t tell him _ .

Bellamy had become her security blanket, her safety net, the one thing she couldn’t survive without.  Sometime during her extended attempts to convince herself that he didn’t matter, he’d become the only thing that did.  It was like she’d been telling Raven (directly or indirectly) for months--she couldn’t lose Bellamy.  It would destroy her and she wasn’t ready to see the person she’d be without his influence.

“I, um….” She paused, took a moment to collect herself.  “I wanted to talk to you about us.”

She could have pinpointed the moment that Bellamy made the connection.  A wall went up behind his eyes and he sat back.

“You want to end it?” he said it casually.  So casually that she knew he was doing it for her sake.  To make it easier.  Because that was all Bellamy did these days, it seemed.  Make things easier for Clarke, no matter how much it hurt him in return.

“No,” she replied, almost vehemently.  He looked almost taken aback.  “I mean, what’s the point really?” she asked, more quietly.

He didn’t say anything so she plowed on, ticking things off on her fingers.  “It’d be hella awkward with the rest of the cast, your sister might kill me, the press would be a bitch.  I mean there are other things but--”  
“It just makes more sense to stay together?” he supplied.

“Well, yeah.”

He nodded.  “Good to know you’re just in it for the convenience then.”

“Bellamy,” she protested.  “Come on.”

He shrugged.

This time she was the one who reached across the table to touch his hand.  “When we started this whole thing I agreed because Marcus basically made it a prereq to keeping the job.”  His eyes flicked up to hers.  “But it’s like I said at that bar.  You’re my best friend.  God help me I don’t know how that happened but you  _ are _ .  And this...this thing between us isn’t complicated.  I know it should be but it’s so easy, being with you, even if we’re lying to everyone.”

“I know what you mean,” he said quietly and she felt relief blossom in her chest.

“I don’t want us to fake break up,” she said, “partly because it’s just easier but mostly because I want to keep spending time with you.  Because I  _ like _ spending time with you.”

“Okay,” he said and he squeezed her hand.  “Not that there was ever a question but I’m in.”

“We should talk to Kane though.”

“I was thinking the same thing.  I’m sure the fact that we’ve decided to stay together will make him draw some incorrect conclusions and I’d like to head them off as soon as possible.”

“Agreed.”

He squeezed her hand again and turned back to the menu.  “How do you feel about dates?  Because this appetizer with the bacon looks to  _ die for _ .”

She hid her smile behind her menu and said, “it sounds great, Bell.”

 

TMZ @TMZ

Clarke Griffin and Bellamy Blake enjoy a night out on the town in Los Angeles, California.

 

It started raining halfway through dinner, the kind of rain that wasn’t unusual to LA even if it was March and it was supposed to be sunny.

Bellamy, ever the gentleman, insisted that Clarke stay in the sanctuary of the restaurant’s atrium while he ran to get his car, which he’d had to park several streets over in order to comply with Hollywood’s dire Saturday night parking situation.

Figuring he’d be a while, Clarke pulled out her phone and aimlessly started scrolling through Facebook.

She was yanked out of her wonderings about how so many of her friends from high school already had kids when she heard someone calling her name from further inside the restaurant.

She looked up and scanned the crowded dining room until she finally picked out a lone male figure fighting his way towards her through the mess of tables and customers.

“It is you!” Finn Collins said when he’d finally reached her.  “I wasn’t sure.”

“Hi,” she said cautiously.

The grin he shot her was obviously a practiced one.  She was sure that it worked more often that it didn’t.  “That’s not a way to greet a friend, is it?”   


“Oh, are we friends?” she asked but she followed it up with a smile to show that she was at least half kidding.

He laughed anyway.  “A girl with some spunk, I like it.”

She raised her eyebrows then gestured to the doors.  “It was nice seeing you but I should be going.  My ride will be here any minute.”

“Right, sure, of course.”  He scratched the back of his neck, looking almost unsure for a minute before: “hey, would you ever want to go out sometime?”

Out of the corner of her eye, Clarke saw Bellamy’s car pull up to the curb.  She could barely make out his silhouette, watching her, in the glare of the streetlights overhead.

“That sounds nice,” she hedged.  “But I have a boyfriend.”

He opened his mouth to say something else but she cut him off.  “And I have to go.  Nice seeing you.”

Then she was turning her back on him and pushing out into the downpour.  She splashed across the sidewalk to Bellamy’s car to find that he’d already pushed open the passenger side door for her.  She slid into the warmth of the car with a breath of relief.

“Who’s that?” Bellamy asked, still looking past her at Finn’s figure, watching them from inside.

“No one,” Clarke answered honestly.  “Just some guy Raven and I ran into the PCA after party.”

“Huh,” Bellamy said.  “He just looks familiar is all.”

Then he was shifting the car into gear and pulling away from the curb, leaving Finn and Clarke’s thoughts of him, behind.

 

GenSuper Writers’ Room @GenSuperWritersRoom

We’re officially back open for business!  Here’s your first look at what’s to come in season 2! #gensupercw

 

 

Clarke and Bellamy met with Marcus a week after their dinner date.  Clarke drove, since Bellamy was on her way to Burbank and the Warners Brothers lot, but the drive was quiet.  Things between the two of them had relaxed to their average pre-wedding status, and neither of them had brought up Octavia’s reception, Clarke asking him to kiss her, or him complying.  Logically Clarke knew that something was bound to come of it eventually but she sure as hell wasn’t going to be the one to open that can of worms.

It was the middle of the afternoon on a Wednesday and the lot was bustling with activity.  Clarke had always liked the vibe of a studio lot, she liked being surrounded by people who were actively creating something, who were building a world out of a soundstage, a handful of actors, and some fake shrubbery.  She’d briefly thought about starting a career behind the lens of the camera, but she’d gotten her acting break before those thoughts had ever come to fruition.

The  _ Gen Super _ writers’ room was in a low squat building towards the center of the lot that was decorated like something out of 1985 and smelled vaguely of mothballs.  Nevertheless, Marcus’ office was homey, with pictures of his wife and kids on the wall, and a collection of ceramic knickknacks that Clarke had wanted to ask him about since she met him but was never brave enough to.

He was reading over a script, red pen in hand, glasses on the end of his nose, when they knocked on the door.

He looked up and smiled, then waved them in, gesturing to the two chairs pulled up in front of his desk.  Bellamy closed the door and Clarke tried to snatch a look at the script.  He flipped it shut before she could make out anything more than the beginning of a slug line.

“No peeking,” he said around another smile.  Clarke rolled her eyes.

“What episode is that?”  Bellamy asked as he took the other chair.

Marcus took off his glasses and capped the pen.

“It’s an outline for episode two.  We’re still breaking arcs.  I’m expecting we’ll get started on writing this one in a couple weeks.”

“You had the premiere started though?”

“I wrote the premiere as soon as I knew how season one was going to end.  Now it’s time to hand the reigns over to the rest of my very capable writing staff while I finagle with the network about being able to get more sets.”

Clarke laughed.  “They’re still being stingy with you?  Even after you executive produced the most popular first season of a show in years that wasn’t part of their DC verse?”

Marcus shrugged.  “I suspect they’re still trying to make  _ Supernatural _ good.”

Bellamy snorted. “That ship sailed.”

“So it would appear.” He folded his hands over the table.  “So.  What is it you two wanted to talk to me about?”

“Us,” Bellamy said, probably knowing that Clarke wouldn’t be able to get it out.

“Ah.  Yes, i was expecting this conversation.  But I thought I’d be the one to trigger it.”

“Raven threatened me,” Clarke explained.

“She is good at that sort of thing, isn’t she?”  He appraised them.  “What decision have you come to, regarding your relationship?  I can’t help but notice that the two of you have become quite close since we all originally agreed on this arrangement.”

“We’re staying together,” Clarke said.

“For the sake of practicality,” Bellamy added.  Clarke shot him a look but he refused to meet her eyes.

“I will say I’m glad to hear that,” Marcus said.  “It certainly makes my job a bit easier.”

“What do you mean?” Clarke asked, not liking the twinkle in his eye.

He was quiet for a moment.

“Marcus, what do you mean?” she repeated, a bit more forcefully this time.

He sighed and sat back in his chair.  “I mean that the relationship between Gabriel and Lena is something that’s been discussed a great deal in the writers’ room over the last week or so.”

Clarke felt a pit open in the bottom of her stomach.

“And?” Bellamy demanded.

“And we all came to a conclusion that I myself came to when I was first working on my pitch for the CW.”  He paused.  “That Gabriel and Lena’s relationship will inevitably turn romantic. Sooner rather than later.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“It means this season, Clarke.”

Clarke felt ice flood her veins.  No more faking.  No more pretending.  How the fuck was she supposed to pretend she didn’t have very, extremely, seriously real feelings for Bellamy if Lena was going to fall for Gabriel?  She might have been a great actress but when it came to Bellamy all bets were off.

“Some heads up would have been nice,” Bellamy was saying.

“This  _ is _ your head’s up,” was Kane’s response.  “And let me remind you that as much creative license I let the two of you have, you still work for me.  I was under no obligation to tell you at all until the scripts came out.”

Clarke bit down on her lip.  “Can you tell us when?”

“The middle of the season or later.  We’re not sure yet.”

She nodded.

“Are they endgame?” Bellamy asked, and it came out perhaps a bit too blunt but Clarke was thankful to him.  It was the question niggling at the back of her mind that she never would have been able to voice herself.

“I don’t like to prescribe to the idea of endgame,” Kane replied.

Bellamy snorted.  “That’s bullshit and we all know it.  I know you have this whole goddamn show planned out for five seasons at least.  So come on, in that fifth season, are Gabriel and Lena still together?”

Kane heaved another deep sigh.  Clarke knew what he was going to say even before he opened his mouth.

“Yes.”

 

They didn’t talk on the way back to the car.  There was a heavy sort of awkward tension between them that neither seemed to want to break.

Clarke turned her key in the ignition.  The engine turned over and roared to life but she made no move to shift the car into park.  Instead, she tilted her head back against the headrest.  “Jesus,” she muttered.

“I definitely was not expecting that,” Bellamy admitted.

“You had to have suspected that a romantic arc was going to happen eventually.”  
He laughed.  “I figured the show’d get cancelled before it ever did.  You know how Kane loves his slowburn couples.”

“How do you feel about it?” she asked the ceiling.

“I’m fine, Clarke.  I’ll be fine.  We both will.”

She turned to look at him.  He was staring resolutely through the windshield at the concrete wall of the parking garage.

“We’re actors.  This is what we do for a living.  We pretend.”

“Pretend?” she repeated.  “Like we’ve been doing for the last year?”

There was a quiet sort of melancholy in his eyes after she said that.

“Don’t,” he said, almost begged.  “Don’t pretend like that’s our only option here.”

“Bellamy--”

“No, Clarke, stop.  I’m not propositioning you again or something, you’ve made your thoughts on that subject very clear.  No, I’m just…” He scrubbed a hand through his hair, a vigorous and almost angry movement.  “I’m tired of both of us acting like this….this pretending is the only way this could have played out.  All right?”

She shifted the car into reverse.  “Yeah.  All right, Bellamy.”

 

clarkegriff added a new photo:

He’s upset because Netflix deleted all the History Channel specials. @bellblake

natemiller, thebestblake, ravereyes and 200,000 others liked this.

 

March bled into April with little pomp or circumstance.  Clarke and Bellamy carried on as they always did, with carefully planned public appearances followed by watching conspiracy theories in their pajamas on someone’s couch.

Octavia and Lincoln returned from their honeymoon, sunkissed and more in love than ever, and she, Clarke, and Raven quickly fell back into their pattern of weekly girls’ nights out that occasionally also included Gina.

At the end of the first week of the month the cast was informed that production on season two was going to start around the beginning of June, just in time to head to Vancouver and avoid the beginnings of southern California’s scorching summer.

Kane had been radio silent on the subject of season two and especially the relationship he and the other writers were crafting between Gabriel and Lena behind closed doors.  Clarke, meanwhile, couldn’t stop herself from thinking about it.  From thinking about how come summer, she’d have to let her real feelings, the feelings she’d been suppressing for months, bubble to the surface and take control.  The thought was as terrifying as it was exhilarating.

Not more terrifying, however than the thought of bringing it up with Bellamy again.  She’d thought about it, more than once, and she’d almost mentioned it a handful of times.  But every time she got close, she remembered how Bellamy had clammed up in the car.  How defensive he’d gotten --  _ “I’m not propositioning you again or something, you’ve made your thoughts on that subject very clear” _ he’d said and ripped out a small piece of her heart.  She knew she was being irrational and stupid and that she should just tell him, like Raven had insisted.  But she also knew that she was still too much of a coward to take that final step.  As much as it made her insides twist, as much as it felt like she was ripping herself apart at the seams sometimes, their fake relationship was easy.  It was calculated, it was practiced, it something she knew how to do.  She knew now where Bellamy’s boundaries were and she’d promised herself after everything went back to normal after Octavia’s wedding that for both their sakes she wouldn’t let herself get so close to crossing them again, fully aware that each time she lost control wore away at Bellamy’s and that one day he might just snap.

And then where would she be?

She did, however, keep running into Finn Collins--in the grocery store, CVS, once in Sephora of all places.  Raven was convinced he was stalking her and a small part of Clarke’s more logical brain thought that was probably likely.  But he hadn’t brought up them getting together purposefully again so for the meantime she was willing to let it slide.

He met Bellamy for the first time at a Young Hollywood Brunch.  Against all odds, Clarke was seated between the two of them.  She spent a long five minutes staring at the name card above the place setting next to hers --  _ Finn Collins _ \-- before Bellamy returned from the bathroom and jolted her out of her reverie.  Finn himself slipped in just minutes before their food was meant to be served.

“Well, I’ll be damned, if it isn’t Clarke Griffin,” he said around a wide smile.  “You sure you’re not stalking me?”  
“I could ask the same of you,” she replied, feeling a smile tick up her own lips.

Bellamy shifted next to her and leaned around Clarke.  She chanced a look at him to find his eyes narrowed and face wary.  He stuck out a hand.  “Bellamy Blake.”

“Ah, the illustrious boyfriend.”  Finn shook his hand. “Finn Collins, pleased to meet you.”

“You’re the guy from the restaurant,” Bellamy said, probably a bit more brusquely than was necessary.

Clarke considered stomping down on his foot and telling him not to be rude but Finn didn’t seem to be bothered.  His smile just widened as he nodded.

“I keep running into Clarke all over town.  I think she might be stalking me.”

Bellamy’s smile didn’t reach his eyes.  “Uh huh.”

Clarke pushed her chair back with a loud screech.  Still, Bellamy and Finn’s eyes didn’t leave each other’s faces.  “I’m going to go freshen up,” Clarke announced.  Her words received no response.

The bathroom was blissfully empty.  She leaned against the counter and pulled her phone out of her bag, then dialed Raven’s number, praying that she’d pick up.

Her agent had talked her into agreeing to do the indie feature shooting in Montana after all, after the producers had agreed to spring enough money to get Raven a shitty hotel room.

“At least there’s running water and I won’t wake up with a snake in my sleeping bag,” Raven had said the night before she’d left.

Running water aside her cell service was spotty and the production timeline was expedited in order to get her back to Vancouver in time for the start of production on  _ Gen Super  _ season two.  Clarke had barely spoken to her aside from a spare handful of texts since she’d left two weeks ago.

Now, thankfully, someone was smiling down on her and the call went through.

“Hello?” Raven’s voice filtered through.

Clarke sagged against the counter.  “Oh, thank God, I got you,” she said.

“Clarke?  What’s wrong?”

Clarke let out a long sigh.

“I hate to be this person but I’ve only got ten minutes before the director sends a PA after me so this’ll have to be fast.”

“Bellamy met Finn.”

Dead silence on the other end of the line.  Finally, “how the  _ fuck _ did that happen?”

“Bad luck?  We all got seated next to each other at this brunch thing Marcus made us RSVP to.”

“And still you think he’s not stalking you?”

“ _ Raven _ ,” Clarke protested.

But Raven cut her off.  “Clarke, babe, I’m telling you.  This guy’s got a mega-thing for you.”

“So what?”

“So I don’t like the way he looks at you.  Like he’s trying to think of a way to win you over.”

Clarke rubbed at a stain on the countertop.

“It’s not working is it?” Raven asked, her voice suspicious.

“No!  Jesus!”

“Okay, just checking.  No need to get your panties in a twist.”

Clarke snorted.

“Are you okay?”

“Of course, why wouldn’t I be?”

“No reason.”  Raven paused and Clarke could hear the smile in her voice when she said, “has Bellamy’s jealous streak come out yet?”   


“He looked like he wanted to pry Finn’s eyes out with the butter knife.”

Raven cackled then swore.  “Shit, I gotta go.  I’ll call you later, yeah?”

Clarke smiled into the phone.  “Sure.  Have fun, Rae.”

Raven snorted.  “ _ Fun _ .  Sure.  I’m being eaten alive by bugs and every stereotype you’ve ever heard about Montana is true, but sure I’ll try.”

The line went dead with a  _ click _ and Clarke looked up from the counter into the mirror.  The wide-eyed panic she’d felt when Finn had first sat down in that chair was gone, replaced by calm.  This was why she’d called Raven.  Somehow she always managed to put things into perspective, make a throwaway comment about bugs, and calm Clarke down.

She could do this.  She could manage to sit between her fake boyfriend and the guy who was probably actively crushing on her and make small talk until she could escape.  She could do this.

_ Assuming _ , she thought as she reached for the handle to the door,  _ that Bellamy and Finn haven’t killed each other yet. _

They hadn’t, but they were very pointedly not looking at each other in that way that screamed  _ ‘we exchanged words and now I don’t want to acknowledge the fact that you exist _ .’  It was all very middle school and the idea of two grown 20-something men reduced to sulking while they waited for her to come back was almost laughable.

A look of what could have been called relief crossed Bellamy’s face as she slid back into her chair and apologized for taking so long.

“Raven called,” she explained to Bellamy and he nodded.

“How is she?”

“Being eaten alive by bugs and hating every second of it.”

He laughed.

“This is Raven Reyes?” Finn asked from her other side.

Bellamy stiffened and Clarke rolled her eyes.  She slid her hand under the table and squeezed his knee.  He relaxed.

“Yes,” she said to Finn.  “You met her, too, at the PCAs I think, right?”

He nodded.  “I don’t think she liked me much.”

“Not hard to see why,” Bellamy muttered under his breath.  Clarke squeezed down on his knee again, purposefully digging her nails in.  He hissed and she retracted her grip.

“It takes her time to warm up to people.  She’s….protective.”

Finn’s eyes flitted from Clarke over to Bellamy.  “You seem to have a habit of attracting that.”

“I like to think of it as my friends having my back,” Clarke said simply.  There was something appraising in Finn’s eyes as he lifted his glass.

“I’d toast to that.”

 

They fell into a sort of easy acquaintanceship after that.  Finn had asked for Clarke’s number as they were leaving the banquet and she’d given it to him, all too aware of Bellamy’s stony presence behind her.  Still it was a testament to his character that he didn’t say anything about the incident, or Finn in general, even after they were alone.

Instead they’d gone back to her place, fed Paisley, ordered Chinese food, and shared it on her couch, changed out of their brunch finery into sweatpants and hoodies.  He even let her put on  _ National Treasure _ and barely bitched about the historical inaccuracies.  Clarke may have caught him laughing at a joke once or twice.

Clarke didn’t try to keep the fact that she occasionally met with Finn a secret from Bellamy but she didn’t throw it into his face either.  She was under no obligations to him, she had to keep reminding herself, and she was thankful that she didn’t have to repeat those words to his face.

They met for coffee occasionally and mostly talked about work.  It was during one of these meetings that she finally remembered why he looked vaguely familiar.  He’d been one of the original cast members of a Disney Channel show she’d watched back in high school who had then disappeared off Hollywood’s radar for a handful of years.

When she asked about it he explained that he’d taken a few years to himself, gotten his GED, taken a shot at college, and generally tried to live a normal life, before the man who became his agent was seated next to him on a crosscountry flight, recognized him, and convinced him to come back to LA and audition for a role the agent thought he’d be perfect for.  He’d had a small rise to fame, bolstered by fans of the Disney Channel show who had never let him go, and his new appeal as a 20-something heartthrob.  Shortly before he and Clarke had first met at the PCAs he’d been cast in a series regular role on a new Freeform pilot adaptation of a YA graphic novel series about vampires.

Things were fine.

And then one day in the middle of April, Clarke’s carefully constructed reality came crashing down like the a house of cards.

She and Bellamy were washing dishes in his kitchen.  Octavia and Lincoln had just left.  Some cheesy love song was playing on the radio and Bellamy’s dimples were making Clarke think thoughts she knew she shouldn’t have been.

“Thank you,” she said to the soapy water in the sink as she plunged her hands in, searching for the next dish.

“For what?” he asked.

“I don’t know.  Everything.”

He leveled a long glance at her.  “Clarke.”

She sighed.  “For...us.  It’s been a long time since I felt this comfortable around someone.”

He look the plate she was offering him and started to dry it.  “Where did this come from?”

His tone was guarded. She should have noticed.  She didn’t.

“I guess I’ve just been thinking a lot lately,” she said slowly.  “About where I was...mentally...when we were cast.  When Kane asked us to do this whole charade.  And then I think about where I am now and...I’m thankful to you, Bellamy.  You’ve done so much for me.”

“I’m glad,” he said simply.

She pressed on.  “I don’t usually handle having close relationships well,” she admitted.

“Raven,” he countered.

“Raven’s different.”

He hummed in agreement.

“She’s the one person who’s always accepted me at face value.  No matter what I do, no matter how much I fuck up, she’s always willing to step in and shoulder some of the burden.”

Bellamy stopped drying the dish in his hands.  “And I’m not?”

“No,” she backpedaled.  “You’ve just never had any reason to.”

He relaxed and set the dish on the drying rack.

“You’ve never asked for anything from me,” she continued.  “And I appreciate that.”

Bellamy turned towards her and leaned a hip against the counter. “What exactly was I going to ask from you?”

“I don’t know, for this to be something it’s not?  For us to be something we’re not?”

“I know exactly what we are, Clarke.”  His voice was low.  “I’ve made my bed and now I’m lying in it.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“It means that if I was a braver man, a smarter man, I would have said something to you last year.  And maybe it would have been too soon and maybe we wouldn’t have become whatever it is we are now.”

“We’re  _ friends _ , Bell.”

He waved that off.  “I know, I know.”

She opened her mouth to say something else but he held a finger up.  “Just...let me.  Okay?”  She nodded.  He took a long moment to collect his next thoughts.  “If I was a braver man,” he said finally. “I would have told you months ago that I love you.”  He finally looked up at her and the raw emotion in his eyes made her breath catch in her throat.

Raven, Octavia, and Gina had probably known for months.  Hell, he’d probably  _ told _ O himself and Raven and Gina were perceptive enough to pick it up on their own.  And there had always been a part of Clarke that had wondered, that had  _ hoped _ .  There was that look in his eye when he probably thought she wasn’t watching, a spark that made Clarke think maybe everything could be okay one day.  There was the way he held her, in public and in private, like she was something he cherished, something he couldn’t bear to break.  And then there was Christmas.  And Octavia’s wedding reception and the kisses they’d shared.

It was all so obvious and part of Clarke hated herself for not connecting the dots sooner.

“I’m not going to be the guy that demands something from you,” he said after a pause.  “Being your friend means more to me than anything, Clarke, and it’s wonderful to hear how I’ve helped you over the last handful of months.”

“But?” she asked.

“But I don’t think I want you to say things like that to me anymore.  If that’s okay?”

She stared.

“It’s hard to hear.  Knowing that you don’t see me the way that I see you.”

“We just can’t,” she blurted.

It wasn’t what she wanted to say.   _ I think I love you _ , she thought.   _ So much that it scares me. _

His expression hardened. “See, then you say shit like that.  And I don’t fucking  _ get it, _ Clarke.”

“I hurt people.”

“I’m willing to  _ fucking risk it _ .”

She shook her head.  “No.  No I won’t hurt you.  I can’t.”

“That’s bullshit and we both know it.”   


“What happened to not pushing me?” she snapped back and he froze.

_ Fuck _ , she thought the second the words had left her mouth.

His mouth tightened into a line as he stepped back.

“Right,” he said, and his voice was clipped.   


She reached out for him.  “No, Bellamy, I--”

“I think you’ve said enough.”  He was squeezing the edge of the counter so hard that his knuckles had gone white.  “I’d like for you to leave.  Please.”

She bit down on her bottom lip.  “Okay,” she said quietly.

He followed her to the door, a step and a half farther back than he normally would have been and Clarke felt the distance like a chasm between them.

_ This is your fault _ , she thought after the closed the door behind her.   _ You and your dumb mouth _ .

Raven had told her to tell him the truth.  To take that flying leap into the unknown, to open herself up to him and finally let Bellamy see the part of Clarke that she vigilantly kept under lock and key.  The part of her that was angry, raw, desperate, and ugly.  The part of her that hadn’t healed from Lexa or the one before her or the one before them or the one before them.  The part of her that she’d sworn to never let see the light of day, fearing that if someone she cared about realized how messed up on the inside she really was they wouldn’t want her anymore.

Now she’d never know if that was how Bellamy would respond.  They’d argued before but never with the quiet intensity that had filled that kitchen.  She’d never seen him like that, resigned to the fact that this time she’d pushed him back for the last time.  He’d keep up the charade because he was morally righteous like that but surely she’d screwed up for the last time.  He’d keep his feelings to himself.  She’d blown her chance at seeing if they could ever be something more.

She wanted to call Raven but knew that talking to someone over the phone wasn’t going to help.  Octavia wasn’t even close to an option--her loyalties would lie, as they should, with her brother.

There was only one other person who she could call, as much as she knew it was a stupid idea.  She took out her phone anyway and sent the text that she knew she shouldn’t send.

The response came seconds later:  _ come on over, I have ice cream. _

 

Finn’s face was full of concern when he opened the door.  “Hey,” he said, and his arm came up around her shoulders and she fell into his chest, tears leaking out of her eyes.  “Hey, it’s going to be okay.”

They didn’t speak for over an hour.  He let her have the couch and sat in the rocking chair on the other side of the coffee table.  He had a nice one bedroom, a little small, but well-decorated and homey.  The arm of the couch had a stain on it that Clarke couldn’t stop staring at.  She picked at the ice cream that he’d handed her absentmindedly, eating it more for something to do than because she wanted it.

Finally after what felt like eons, he ventured a question. “What happened?”

“Bellamy and I had a fight.”

“Ah.  I didn’t know Boy Wonder was capable of being a dick.”

She glared at him and he sobered.  “Why do you assume it was his fault?”

“Because you’re here crying on my couch?”

“It was both our faults, but mostly mine.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

She shook her head but said, “It just got to be too much.”   


“What did?”

She stared at the stain again, picked at it with a fingernail.  She opened her mouth to say something, she wasn’t sure what, but it all came pouring out.

Finn was a good listener, that’s one thing she’d give him.  His eyes never left her face through her whole confession.  About how she’d always hated him, how they first met, how she’d never wanted to go to the  _ Gen Super _ audition but Anya had talked her into it.  About how she’d felt when Bellamy was cast as her co-lead, how she’d started to realize that maybe he wasn’t all bad.  About how it was all a sham until at least for him it wasn’t.

He didn’t say anything for a long moment after she finished, digesting what she’d said probably.

“Jesus,” he said.  “So you two have been faking it the whole time?”

_ No _ , she thought.

“Yes.”

“ _ Jesus _ ,” he repeated.  “But he has real feelings for you.  That you don’t return.”

Clarke absently wondered when lying had become so easy. When it had become such a simple matter to shove down the truth into a dark hole, slide a padlock on the door, and toss away the key.  Here, now, away from Bellamy and the hurt in his eyes, it was so easy to lie.  She hated it.

“Yes.”

He rubbed his neck.  “Wow.”

“You can’t tell anyone,” she blurted.  “I shouldn’t have told you.”

“I won’t say anything, don’t worry.”  He flashed her a smile that she didn’t return.  “But, Clarke, are you going to keep up with it?”   


She shrugged.  “I don’t really have another choice, do I?”

“You always have a choice.”

“What are you suggesting then?”   


“Break it off,” he said earnestly, getting up and crossing the room to sit next to her on the sofa.  He took her hand.  She let him.

“No, I can’t.”

“Why, because it’s hard?”   


“Because I can’t hurt Bellamy.  I just can’t.”

“Don’t you think you’re hurting him now?  Can’t you imagine how he must feel?  Pining after you, pretending to be dating you, and knowing that he can’t ever actually have you?”

“I can’t hurt Bellamy,” she repeated.

“What about hurting you?” he asked quietly.

She looked up and forced herself to meet his eyes.  He reached up to brush the tips of his fingers across her cheeks. 

“You can’t live like this forever, Clarke,” he whispered.

“So, what? I fake-break up with Bellamy and then what?  What’s my excuse?”

“You have feelings for someone else.”  His eyes bored into hers.  “Say, me?”

His hand flattened against her cheek and she let her eyelids drift closed.  It would be too easy.  She liked Finn just fine.  He was handsome, he was charming, he was funny.  She’d dated people just like him before and she knew that maybe, given enough time, she could make it work.  If only for long enough to smooth things out between her and Bellamy.  Long enough for him to get over her, find another girl who would treat him like he deserved to be treated.  Long enough that he would forget all about Clarke and look back on the time that he was in love with nothing more than a smile and feelings of brief nostalgia.  It was best, really.  For both of them.

“Raven thought you liked me.”

“She’s perceptive, I’ll give her that.”  He squeezed her hand.  “What do you say?”

Bellamy was strong.  Bellamy was resilient.  Bellamy deserved better than her.  Bellamy would get over her.  Bellamy would find someone else.

The thought made her want to claw her heart out of her chest.

“Okay,” she said anyway.

A wide grin broke across his face and she thought,  _ I could fall in love with that smile.  Maybe one day. _

 

Later that night, alone in Finn’s living room, Clarke pulled out her phone and opened her messages.  Bellamy’s name was at the top of the list.  She opened the conversation and scrolled back a couple of days.  The screen was filled with mundane things, as it usually was--him complaining about long lines at the DMV, her chastising him for not making an appointment.  Them making plans for the weekend that they’d never see to fruition.  She forced herself to stop before the tears could come.

_ This is better _ , she reminded herself.   _ For him and for you _ .

She started to type.

His response came in thirty minutes after she hit send.

_ I want what you want _ , it said.  Then another message:  _ Take care of yourself, Clarke _ .

It only reaffirmed what she already knew--Clarke Griffin didn’t deserve Bellamy Blake.

 

JustJared.com @JustJared

Clarke Griffin and Bellamy Blake are reportedly splitsville after nearly 11 months of dating.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry? I don't have much of the next bits planned out beyond the general but this should hopefully be the last of the hardcore angst, I think?
> 
> But come yell at me on [tumblr](http://rebelprincebell.tumblr.com) if you so desire and please please let me know what you thought of the screenplay excerpt! (your local recently graduated screenwriting major, aka me, is trying to keep her skills fresh and I'd love to actually write some of this show if you guys would be interested in that).


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are! Finally another chapter! I am sorry for the very long gaps between these but I'm going to have to be honest with all of you here and say that this fic really does take a lot out of me to write. This version of Clarke is a very difficult one for me to write, just because of the emotions I need to channel to write her properly and that, coupled with my frequent and crippling writers block and the fact that I work a full-time job and am often gone on weekends means I'm not going to be able to update with any kind of regular or fast schedule. I'm with this fic to the end and if you stick with me I promise we'll get to the end together but I'm begging you guys to give me the time that I need to make this fic good for all of you. I don't want to rush it and trust me when I say you don't want me to rush it either.
> 
> But a huge huge thank you to all of the lovely readers who have left me comments here on AO3 or in my askbox on Tumblr (even if I never got around to replying because I'm the worst, trust that I love and appreciate you so much). You guys are the reason I'm still writing. So thank you. <3 <3
> 
> (also this is barely proofread, so if you see any terribly glaring errors please let me know!)

lenameyer:

@Gen Super fandom: let’s not forget that Clarke and Bellamy are real people.  They’re real people with feelings, they’re real people who are allowed to act on those feelings.  They _are not_ obligated to stay together because of what we, as gabrena shippers, want, nor are they obligated to answer any of your, quite frankly, extremely invasive questions about their personal lives.  They’re broken up.  Clarke is dating someone else.  Bellamy very well might start dating someone else.  And we’re all going to be okay with that.  Because they’re real people and we have no claim to their personal lives.  End of story.  Stop being dicks.

#gen super cw #clarke griffin #bellamy blake #this has been your one PSA #knock it off

 

clarkegriffindaily:

“Bellamy and I are still friends and we’re going to go back to work in June and we’re going to make season two of this incredible show, and we’re not going to let our personal relationship affect Gabriel and Lena.  I can’t speak for Bellamy, but I still care very deeply for him as a friend and I suspect I always will.  We’ve shared a lot, he and I, and that doesn’t go away just because we’ve decided we no longer want to be romantically involved.”

\- Clarke Griffin for _Rogue Magazine_ (May 2017)

#clarke griffin #gen super cw

 

April bled into May faster and more uneventfully than Clarke had been expecting.

There were no sudden bombshells, no angry phone calls from Octavia in the middle of the night, no sudden tears when she was least expecting them.  Mostly she felt numb and she was thankful to her chosen career for giving her the tools to put on a brave face.

She mostly ignored her Twitter notifications, choosing to overlook the overwhelming number of fans that were confused, angry, and demanding answers.  Anya had given her a strict talking to about her social media presence after her breakup with Lexa and even if this wasn’t quite the same thing, it was close enough.  She didn’t need to know the specific ugly names people were calling her on the Internet to know that she was being called them.

She hadn’t spoken to Bellamy, face-to-face or over text, in days.  Their only conversation had been a brief series of texts over how they were going to handle the media and fan reaction to their breakup.  Clarke had let him take the lead on that particular front.  She was in no position to be demanding things from him.

Raven was still in Montana but she was due back within the week.  She’d called a handful of times and left increasingly comforting messages, practically begging Clarke to call her back.  After the fifth one she must have gotten the message and stopped calling.  Clarke felt too emotionally hollow to talk to Raven and she knew she didn’t yet have the answers she’d need for that conversation.

Octavia also had been practically radio silent for which Clarke was grateful.  She figured it was Bellamy’s doing, could practically hear him in her head -- _don’t push it, O, it’s not worth it.  Leave her alone, I’m fine_ \-- and it broke her heart to know that even after she’d wrecked him he was still looking out for her.  But that was Bellamy, kind and true to the end, even after you were the reason he was down on his knees, alone, in the dirt.  She only wished she’d seen through that prickly defensive outer armor sooner.  Wished she’d realized the feelings she could have for him before they got in too deep and her own complicated psyche got in the way.

But she couldn’t avoid Raven forever.

Finn had just left and Clarke was lounging around her living room in sweats and an old t-shirt, relishing in the fact that she didn’t have to leave the apartment today.  Paisley was curled up next to her, purring away at Clarke’s hand buried in her fur, and Clarke was scrolling through Netflix, trying to decide which Netflix original she wanted to start next.

A loud banging at the door sent Paisley yowling into the bedroom and almost made Clarke spill tea all over herself.

“Let me in, Clarke Griffin, or I swear to God!” came Raven’s angry voice from the other side of the door, followed shortly by more banging.

Clarke sighed and heaved herself off the couch.  She unlocked the door and barely stepped out of the way before Raven was barrelling inside, towing her roller bag, and looking furious.

“What is up with you not answering my phone calls?” she demanded.

Clarke stared at her, openmouthed.  “Did you come here straight from the airport?”

Raven rolled her eyes.  “ _Did I come here straight from the airport_.  Yes, you fucking idiot, I did come here straight from the airport.  And would you like to know why?”

“Okay?”

“Because my best friend broke off her fake relationship with a man I suspect she’s actually in love with to date a Backstreet Boys wannabe with greasy hair.”

“It’s not that greasy,” Clarke protested.

Raven held up a hand.  “Don’t care and don’t want to know.”  She fell back onto the couch and her face softened.  “I just want you to talk to me, Clarke.”

Clarke swallowed and looked away.

Raven patted the couch. “Babe, come on.  Come sit with me.”

Clarke dragged her feet across the room, let Raven pull her down.

“What happened?”

“He told me that he loved me,” she managed finally, and hated how choked her voice sounded.

Realization flooded across Raven’s face.  “He got brave.  And you got scared.”

“That’s only part of it.”

Raven waited.

“I think I suspected,” she said haltingly.  “But I could tell myself that I was just reading too far into things, that we were just friends, that sure he cared about me but he didn’t _love me_ , at least not like that.  But….then he said it.  And words are so final.  So I said something dumb and he got angry, as he had a right to and...I just ran, Rae.”

“But _Finn Collins?”_

“He’s not a bad guy.  I wish you wouldn’t think he is.”

Raven bit her lip.  “I’ll try for you, babe, you know I will.  But I don’t understand how jumping into a relationship with someone else is going to help you.”

“Raven--”

“No, Clarke, I know this is going to be hard for you to hear, but I need you to listen to it.  And then what you decide to do is your business and I’ll know that I said my piece.  All right?”

“Okay.”

“Since I first started to think that Bellamy had feelings for you and that you might return them, I’ve been begging you to talk to him.  And every time I think we might be making progress in getting you to finally fucking open up to him, you come back with how you’re not good at relationships and how Lexa and all the others fucked you up and how you don’t want to hurt Bellamy.  Which is all well and good, I don’t want you to hurt him either.  But pretending that you don’t have feelings?  Burying your emotions?  Jumping from one relationship to another hoping that it’s going to magically make everything better?  Life doesn’t work like that, Clarke.”

“I know.”

“Being with Finn isn’t going to fix you.”

“I know.”

“Then why are you doing this?”

Clarke took a deep heaving breath.  “Because I don’t know how to do anything else.”

“Oh, honey.”  The sadness in Raven’s eyes nearly broke her.  She melted sideways into Raven’s shoulder and felt her friend’s arm come up around her, stroking her hair back from her face.  “We’re going to figure this shit out, Clarke, you and me.  I promise.”

Clarke just turned her face into Raven’s shoulder and let herself cry.

 

> **BELLAMY** _: I know our last conversation ended rather abruptly._
> 
> **BELLAMY** _: But I’m ready to talk now.  Whenever you are._

 

Bellamy had barely been in her apartment for ten seconds before Paisley came meandering out of God only knew where to wrap around his ankles, purring and rubbing against his pant leg.

He leaned down to scratch her behind the ear.  “Hey,” he whispered.  “I missed you.” She knocked her head back into his palm and Clarke felt herself smile.

“She missed you, too.  She’s taken to cuddling with me now but I don’t think I’m an acceptable surrogate.”

Bellamy tossed a casual grin up at her and she hated herself for how it still made her heart clench.

“She loves you in her own way.”

“Sure, whatever.”

They migrated onto the couch, Bellamy on what had somehow become his side and Clarke no hers, both of them for once careful to keep their feet within the boundaries of their own cushions.  Usually it would start like this and then someone’s feet would inevitably stretch out, brush someone’s calf.  It always ended with one of Bellamy’s legs thrown over the back of the couch, the other shoved halfway up Clarke’s thigh, her feet half in his lap.  But not today.

“How’ve you been?” she asked carefully.

“Good,” he answered and it sounded honest.  “I know this may come as a shock to you, princess, but even you aren’t capable of bringing down my whole life.”

Clarke laughed but she felt her insides flood with shame.  “I’m sorry,” she said finally.

He hummed.  “I know.  But really you have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I do,” she protested.  “I fucked up and I hurt you and that’s the one thing I promised myself I would never do.”

“And I got angry with you,” he countered.  “I asked you for something I had no right to ask you for.”

“No, Bellamy, stop.”

He froze.

She took a moment to collect her thoughts then said, “You had every right to ask me for what you wanted.  You had every right to tell me how you felt and to ask me if I reciprocated your feelings.  I was just so wrapped up in my own head that I couldn’t see beyond my own fucked up logic and how I was digging us deeper and deeper into a hole.”

He shrugged.  “You don’t love me.  End of story.  No hole to be seen.”  He tried to offer her a smile but it was bitten-off around the edges.

“I do though,” she protested.  “Just not in the way that you need me to.  Maybe one day if I sort through all my emotional baggage and see about 8,000 counselors and actually manage to talk about my feelings like an adult for once I could.  But I can’t make you sit around, twiddling your thumbs, waiting for me to get my shit together.”

“I would have, you know,” he said quietly.  “Waited.”

“I know.  And that’s why I couldn’t let you.”  Carefully she reached out across the space between them, palm up and open, an invitation.  He took it and she let their fingers wrap together.  She squeezed. He squeezed back.  “I’m so sorry, Bellamy.”

When she looked up there were tears shining in the corners of his eyes.  “I lied.”

“About what?”

“You are capable of bringing down my whole life.”

“And did I?”

He swallowed.  “Almost.”

“I’m not good for you.”

“I would have liked the opportunity to decide that for myself, you know.”

She nodded and they lapsed into a long silence.

“But you do…love me?” he asked finally, voice choke full of effort.

“Yes,” she answered honestly.  “I do.”

“But?”

“But it’s not enough.”

“Tell me why.”

“Things get so twisted up inside my head sometimes.  And then it doesn’t matter how much I care about someone or what they mean to me.  And then it always just gets uglier and uglier and more fucked up until they leave me or I leave them and I can’t _bear_ the thought of doing that to you, Bellamy, you’re too important.”

His eyes were sad now and Clarke thought he finally understood.  “You aren’t willing to try?” But it was more of a statement than a question.

“What’s the point?  When I know how it’s going to end what’s the point of even starting?”

“Does he make you happy?”

“Finn?”

He nodded.

“I think he will.”

“That’s all that matters to me, you know.  That’s you’re happy.”

“I don’t deserve that.”

“No,” he said softly.  “You deserve everything.  And it kills me that you don’t see that.”

“Bellamy…”

He smiled softly, and his thumb dragged across her skin.

“I know it’s selfish of me,” Clarke whispered back.  “But I don’t want to lose you.”

“I can’t lose you, Clarke, I won’t let myself.  But I need you to let me have some time.  To figure some things out.”

“Yes, of course,” she said, immediately and his smile was small but there.  “Take all the time you need.”

“We’re going to stay friends, Clarke,” he told her.  “No matter what life tries to throw at us, you and I are always going to be friends.”

He left not long after that.  Paisley jumped up onto the windowsill to watch him in the street below, tail twitching back and forth, and it was a struggle for Clarke not to follow her.

Her phone chimed fifteen minutes later and she reached for it blindly.

 _Octavia: I told you not to hurt my brother, Clarke_.

 _Clarke: I didn’t mean to_.

It was another twenty minutes before she got a reply, a rarity for Octavia.

 _Octavia: Be careful, Clarke_.

 

 _“Fans of the CW’_ Gen Super _are still reeling after the bombshell last month that leads Bellamy Blake and Clarke Griffin had suddenly broken off their nearly year long relationship despite no signs that things were rocky between them._

_After Griffin revealed that she’s now dating fellow actor Finn Collins on Instagram two weeks ago, the Internet has erupted with thoughts of scandal -- did Griffin cheat on Blake with Collins?  Or is the truth even more scandalous?”_

( _“Rumors Swirl Around Clarke Griffin and Bellamy Blake’s Sudden Breakup.”_ JustJared.com. Web.)

 

WonderCon @WonderCon

A last minute addition to our 2017 lineup! @cgriffs @raven_reyes @Gina_Martin and @natemiller1 of @GenSuperCW!

 

Clarke went to lunch with Kane at the end of May.  He’d asked her weeks ago and she’d kept putting it off but he’d forced her hand eventually, insisting that they make it happen before Clarke returned to Vancouver for production on season two.

They met at a cafe on Melrose towards the end of the lunch hour and took a table on the deserted back patio.

“I gather that there’s an ulterior motive to this?” Clarke asked as they opened their menus.

“We used to get lunch all the time,” he replied.  “What’s wrong with me wanting to return to old traditions?”

“Your timing is a bit suspect.”

He laughed.  “That it is.”  He closed his menu and folded his hands across it.  “I did have something I wanted to talk to you about.”

Clarke couldn’t help her smile.  “I knew it.  It’s Bellamy, isn’t it.”

“Gabriel, more accurately.”

“Ah.”  She put her menu down.  “Well, get on with it.”

“I trust you know this but I wanted us to talk about it face-to-face.  I’ve had a similar conversation with Bellamy.”  He paused.  “Episode seven.  It’s going to be the mid-season finale..”

“What about it?”

“The fifth act ends with Gabriel and Lena’s first kiss.”

Clarke settled back into her chair.  “You wrote it.”

“Not yet, we’re not that far into the season.  But we do have the whole thing blocked out for the most part.”

“And you’re telling me all of this because…?”

“Obviously I’m aware of the fact that something changed your and Bellamy’s minds about staying together like we talked about a couple of months ago.  And you’re seeing someone else now and if you’re happy then so am I but I wanted you to be aware of the fact that this makes no change to the show.”

“I wouldn’t have expected it to,” Clarke answered honestly.  “Bellamy and I are still friends, Marcus, and whatever happened between us isn’t going to change anything about how we work together.”

He smiled.  “I’m glad to hear it.  And, Clarke, you know that if you ever need to talk, I’m always here right?”

“I do.  Thanks, Marcus.”

 

gensuperdaily:

Clarke Griffin, Raven Reyes, Gina Martin, and Nathan Miller arrive at Wonder-Con 2017 in Anaheim, California.

#wondercon #clarke griffin #raven reyes #gina martin #nathan miller #cast #gensupercw

 

They’d all been to their fair share of cons since being cast in _Gen Super_ but there still was something magical to Clarke about walking into the massive convention hall and seeing the convention floor laid out in front of them.  Booths for things she’d heard of and things she hadn’t, cosplayers wandering among people wearing street clothes.

The _Gen Super_ panel had been a last minute addition and as a result only four of them had been able to make it.  Bellamy had wanted to go but he was leaving the next morning for Toronto and a two episode guest role on a summer cop drama.  They had an afternoon panel on the second day of the con and so Kane, who also hadn’t been able to make it, too swamped with revisions and his wife’s insistence that he actually spend time with his family, and the event’s organizers had allowed the four of them to have the run of the convention floor in the morning.

Raven and Gina had been dropping increasingly unsubtle hints about wanting to split off and do their thing once they arrived so Clarke sped up the inevitable by grabbing Miller’s arm and hauling him off in one direction.

“Love you, Clarke!” Raven yelled after them and Clarke waved over her shoulder.

Clarke and Miller hadn’t spent a huge amount of time together but she’d always liked him.  He had a quiet intensity about him that was often a nice offset to the hecticness of set, especially when she was around people like Jasper.  He and Bellamy had also struck up a strong friendship within the early months of filming and they’d gone out for drinks a handful of times as just the three of them.

They wandered the convention floor exchanging easy conversation, occasionally being noticed and interrupted by fans who wanted pictures or autographs.

“It’s funny,” Clarke said as another pair of teenagers rushed away, tripping over their thank yous, “I was expecting things to be weirder.”

“You mean you were expecting everyone to interrogate you about Bellamy?” Miller asked pleasantly, stopping for a minute to check out the pins on someone’s table.

“Is that self-centered?”

“You did cause quite a stir.”

“How is he?” she blurted.

He gave her a long considering look.  “You don’t know?”

“He asked me to give him time.  We haven’t really talked since we broke up.”

“He’s doing better than I’d expect if I’m being honest,” was Miller’s answer.

And suddenly Clarke wanted to tell him.  She wanted to tell everyone.  She wanted to scream it -- that the whole thing had been a lie until it wasn’t.

“That’s good,” she said instead.

“I think Octavia was thinking about killing you for a while, though.”

“I’m not surprised.”

“Has she started talking to you yet?”

“No.  But I’m not expecting her to.”

“She’ll come around.  Bellamy will make sure of it.”

“Let’s talk about something else,” she said after a pause.  “None of this doom and gloom bullshit.”

He laughed.  “All right.”

“Like when are you going to ask Monty out?”

He choked.  “I’m sorry?”

“Come on, Miller, I’m not blind.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Everyone knows what I’m talking about.  There are astronauts on the International Space Station who know what I’m talking about.”  She looked over at him.  “And you’re blushing so even if I was just fishing now I know I’m right.”

“All right, whatever.”

She nudged his arm with an elbow. “You like him.”

“So what if I do?”

“When are you going to ask him out?” she repeated.

“Uh, never?”

“Oh, come _on_.  He likes you, too, you know.”

Miller’s head snapped over to look at her.  “You think so?”  The hope in his voice was barely hidden.

“Oh, yeah.”

He looked away, considering.  “I thought he was straight.”

Clarke smiled.  “So did I once upon a time.”

That got a grin out of him and Clarke laughed.  “Take a leap of faith, Nate.  Ask the boy out.”

 _You’re a fucking hypocrite_ , the voice in her head accused.  And boy, didn’t Clarke know it.

 

 _“_ **_Season one ended on a fairly significant cliffhanger -- the Scion is coming for them.  We have this new mysterious woman who seemingly has the power to enter and potentially manipulate people’s minds.  Where are these characters’ heads going into the new season?_ **

_CG: Yeah, it’s absolutely a whole new ballgame.  I know Marcus [Kane, executive producer] has been making a lot of comments over the last few months about how season two is about higher stakes and from what we’ve been told about the season that is very much the case.  Season one for us was about laying the groundwork of this world and getting our audience familiar with our characters and starting to sow the seeds of ‘what the hell is going on here.’  I’m not saying that season two is going to explain everything but it’s going to start._

_RR: They’re all kind of in the same place that our viewers are.  Confused, reeling, wondering what’s happening to them, how they fit into what they’re starting to realize is this greater conspiracy.  They were this group of kids from different backgrounds who probably never would have been friends of their own accord and yet they’ve been through this crazy f-ed experience together and now they’ve been through something that they can never tell anyone else about.  They’re bonded for life, they’re stuck together.  I think they all know that now.  They’re in it together._

 

**_Speaking of being in this together, I think the two characters that most stand out to me, at least, in that regard are Lena and Gabriel.  We saw them start as two people who were so opposite, who really did seem to hate each other.  And now they’re very much relying on each other as partners.  Clarke, where is their relationship going to go in season two?_ **

_CG: I think someone might murder me if I fully answer that question but I am glad that you brought up Gabriel and Lena.  Their relationship is one of the core pillars of the show, or at least that’s how Bellamy and I have been playing them.  They’re the center of this group of kids and they’re the glue, so to speak, that’s really holding everyone together, I think they have been since the beginning.  And now that we’ve seen them realize that they can be so much more effective as a team, now that they’re starting to care about each other as people and not just from the standpoint of ‘what can this partnership do for me personally’ I think we’re going to see that relationship develop and blossom into something that’s going to be a true delight._

 

**_I’m also curious about our mysterious scientist who appeared in the season finale.  Gina, originally when you were cast you were supposed to appear in two episodes and then we only saw you for about five minutes at the very end of one.  Was that a purposeful decision on behalf of production?  To hide your character, who we now know is going to be playing a very important role in the next season, as you’ve been upped to season regular, until the very end?_ **

_GM: I really can’t speak for the writers or our producers in terms of what their intentions for Camila are or were but I can say that I was originally meant to be in those two episodes and that was a very last minute change.  When Marcus Kane first approached me about this show his pitch did include season two and the story that I would have to play with in season two and that is one of the main reasons I was so excited about this role.  Camila certainly will be playing an important role, I can tell you that._

 

**_The show was praised last season for the way that it showed diversity and facilitated conversations about otherness both within itself and within its fandom.  Is that something that will continue into season two?_ **

_NM: Oh, absolutely._ Gen Super _is a show about otherness and alienation at its core.  We’re following a group of kids who are already composed of a good number of people who would be labeled ‘outsiders’ by society because of who they are and then you have this idea of ultimate otherness introduced with them developing powers.  At least thematically we’re following the blueprint that’s been laid out by most contributions to the superhero genre before us -- people who are different and who are shunned by general society.  Our cast is diverse, most of us know what it feels like to have people look at us funny because of what we look like or who we love and that’s something that we’re all trying to bring to these characters.”_

 _(“The_ Gen Super _Cast at Wonder-Con 2017.”_ TVLine. Web.)

 

Clarke flew back to Vancouver at the beginning of June.  She was one of the first to return but she’d wanted a few days to herself before the rest of the cast arrived and her life erupted into madness.

At her urging Miller had asked Monty out as soon as they’d all returned from Wonder-Con.  Just as she’d suspected, he’d said yes, and the attention around their new and blossoming relationship pulled some of the cast’s scrutiny away from their confusion over Clarke and Bellamy’s sudden breakup.

Day one on set felt like slipping back into a well-loved sweatshirt.  Clarke had established a handful of close friendships with some of the crew and she was happy to see that they slipped back into a familiar routine, especially since she was missing the camaraderie she used to share with Bellamy, even if she’d barely let herself admit it.

That said, and despite Bellamy’s request for space, it was impossible to notice any difference in the way he acted around her on set.  That was, until the director yelled “cut!” and Bellamy stalked off to the craft services table with barely a second glance at her.

She could feel Raven’s eyes on her and purposefully avoided her gaze, knowing her regret was written all over her face.  Raven’s fingers closed over her shoulder and squeezed.  Clarke looked over and smiled.  Raven’s answering one was tight.

“You’ll get there,” she said and then walked off in the direction of the PA waving at her.

“Sure,” Clarke muttered under her breath.

By week two things were back to normal.

The crew and the rest of the cast had stopped tiptoeing around Clarke and Bellamy, Bellamy was looking her in the eye when they weren’t pretending to be Gabriel and Lena, and he’d even sat next to her at lunch on Monday.

On Wednesday she found him sitting on the steps of her trailer after one of her scenes with Raven, holding two coffees and smiling.

“Hey,” she said slowly, part of her not wanting her scare him off.  As if Bellamy had ever been skittish.

“Hey,” he replied, and there was a warmth in his voice that she hadn’t heard directed at her in weeks.  “A new season of _America’s Book of Secrets_ dropped on Netflix.”

“Oh?”  She wouldn’t let herself hope.  She wouldn’t.

He stood and offered one of the coffees to her.  She accepted it with the smallest of smiles.

“I thought we could get started on it.  If you’re interested?”  There was a note of hesitation in his voice.

“I would love to.”

His answer was a wide grin that might have made Clarke’s heart beat faster than it should have.

She swiped the remote off the counter in the kitchenette and followed Bellamy to the couch.  He was inspecting the magazines spread across her coffee table, put there by a PA most likely.  He shifted aside the most recent copy of _Variety_ and picked up another, smiling slightly.

“What’s that?” she asked.

He turned the cover towards her and Clarke was greeted with a picture of her own face, the heavy eyeshadow and dark lipstick standing out stark against her skin in the black-and-white of the photo.  The _Rogue_ magazine edition she’d completely forgotten about.

Clarke felt blood rush into her cheeks as he said, “It’s a good picture of you.”

“You think?”

He looked back at the cover and nodded a little absentmindedly.  “Good article, too.”

“You read it?”

His eyebrows knit together. “Of course.  I bought a copy the day it went on sale.”

Clarke dropped onto the couch.  “Why?”

Bellamy rolled his eyes.  “You’re still my friend, Clarke, and I wanted to support you.”  He paused.  “Is that so hard to believe?”

 

The Hollywood Reporter @THR

Finn Collins joins the CW’s #GenSuper in an undisclosed recurring guest role.

 

_“At my high school it was the band kids.  At my college roommate’s, it was the theater kids.  I once heard a story about, of all imaginable groups, the AP-obsessed Ivy League hopefuls.  No matter what clique it was at your school we all remember them -- that group that was more inbred than your third cousins in Kentucky that you don’t acknowledge in polite conversation._

_The clique that only ever dated each other._

_Well, call this a blast from the past because the cast of the CW’s breakout hit from last season,_ Gen Super _, is officially that incestuous clique from high school._

_The story starts with co-leads Clarke Griffin and Bellamy Blake, who play feuding hot heads turned partners Lena Meier and Gabriel Ayers onscreen.  The two actors co-starred in an indie feature back in 2007 and have reportedly hated each other ever since until, suddenly last year, they dropped the bomb that they were a couple.  The pair dated for nearly a year before breaking up almost more suddenly than they got together in the first place a handful of weeks ago._

_Now Griffin is dating Finn Collins, aka that kid we all remember from Nickelodeon’s failed copycat version of_ The Mickey Mouse Club _turned early 2000s boy band member and mildly successful solo artist.  In recent years he’s taken a stab at acting and won a handful of guest roles on TV.  Reports claim that the two met at a People’s Choice Awards after party and had continued to interact casually during the rest of Griffin’s relationship with Blake.  And, shockingly enough, last minute it was revealed that Finn Collins will be following his new beau to Vancouver -- as a returning guest star on the second season of_ Gen Super _._

_Yep, you read that right._

_And that’s barely even the beginning._

_Bellamy Blake and Raven Reyes, another member of the show’s main cast as well as Clarke’s best friend, have been romantically linked in the past.  Bellamy also once seriously dated returning guest star turned season two regular Gina Martin, who vague Internet whispers have been connecting to Reyes for months.  Plus, Nathan Miller recently announced on Instagram that he’s also started dating a costar--Monty Green, the actor behind_ Gen Super’s _resident genius, Andrew Kang._

_Finn Collins is due to first appear in episode three of the second season, which went into production a handful of weeks ago, transplanting him right into the center of a certifiable powder keg of potential awkwardness, especially since recent BTS photos have shown Bellamy and Clarke closer than they’ve been in the months since their breakup.”_

_“The_ Gen Super _Cast is Officially That One Incestuous Clique Everyone Remembers From High School.”  BuzzFeed.  Web.)_

 

Clarke met Finn at the airport the day he got in.  Raven had offered to come with her but she didn’t particularly feel like putting up with the awkward tension that that would have likely fostered.  Raven was slowly but surely warming up to Finn but he still knew she didn’t like him and as far as Clarke could tell, those feelings were reciprocated.

She waited in baggage claim, nerves coiling in her stomach like a snake.

They’d been talking on the phone, texting, and Skyping regularly since she’d left LA for Vancouver a month earlier but there had been an undercurrent of stiffness to their conversations since Clarke and Bellamy had started hanging out again.

She’d made the one time mistake of mentioning that she had to go because he’d ordered pizza to his trailer for them and it had arrived and ever since, Finn had been making snippy comments she didn’t have the desire to translate. But maybe, she thought, as she watched him appear through the throng of passengers exiting into baggage claim, things would be different now that he was here.

His grin was wide as he walked up and she let him pull her into a hug.  He kissed her once, briefly, as she they parted, and it was comfortable and familiar.  He was a good kisser, he was a good _boyfriend_ , and Clarke was happy.  She was.

Really.

 

Things were not immediately made better by Clarke and Finn being in the same place.  Arguably, they got worse.

Bellamy easily melted into the background of Clarke’s life again, opening up the time in Clarke’s day to spend with Finn that she normally would have spent lazing around one of their trailers eating the Girl Scout cookies Octavia had mailed and bickering over which Netflix original to start next.

Instead, Clarke now spent her free days and hours touring Finn around the city that had become her second home.  Finn seemed unimpressed with Vancouver, and it rankled Clarke’s nerves.  They’d spent the last several weeks since his agent had finalized his contracts talking about how excited they were to both be in the same place again and now that he was finally here, Clarke felt like there was still something between them, keeping them at arms length.

 

iriswests:

Gen Super filmed in downtown Vancouver today and I found the set and like….Are Gabriel and Lena….holding hands???

#i know the pic is blurry but like what else could that be #i’m fine this is fine #gen super cw #gabrena

 

“Day one of episode three,” Bellamy said over breakfast.  “You ready to work with your boyfriend?”

“I worked with you for months, didn’t I?” she quipped back.

He quirked an eyebrow.  “Not the same thing.”  There was a smile in his voice.

“We’ll be fine.”

“You convincing me or yourself there, princess?”

She shot him a long look.  “Bellamy,” she warned.

He grinned.  “Am I not allowed to ask?”

“You haven’t _asked_ anything,” she shot back.

“Defensive.”

“Bite me, Blake.”

He laughed.  “I don’t think the boyfriend would like that.”

“Who gives a shit what he likes.”

“Trouble in paradise?”

“Oh, there’s the question.”

“Don’t change the subject.”

“I’m not.”

He raised his eyebrow.

“It never was paradise,” she admitted.  “Relationships aren’t just easy, Bellamy.”

He frowned.  “Clarke, are things...okay between the two of you?”

“Fine,” she snapped.

He sat back in his chair.  “If you ever need to talk you can talk to me.  You know that right?”

“Yeah, because that wouldn’t be awkward,” she muttered.

He rolled his eyes.  “Please.”

“What’s going on here?” Finn asked from behind them.

Clarke jumped.

“We’re eating breakfast,” Bellamy replied, voice shorter than it probably would have been in response to anyone else.  “You have a problem with that?”

“Hardly,” Finn said around a fake smile.  “Were you planning on staying?”

“ _Finn!”_ Clarke protested.

He flashed her a wounded look.  “What?”

Clarke gaped.

“Oh, for Christ’s sake,” Bellamy muttered.  He threw back the rest of his coffee, wrapped up the untouched bagel on his plate and stood.  “I’m fucking out of here.  See you later, Clarke.”

He pushed past Finn, shoulders knocking together harder than was probably necessary.  Finn slides into his chair and reaches for the carton of orange juice.

“Was that entirely necessary?” Clarke asked.

“Was what entirely necessary?”

“Bellamy’s my coworker, Finn.  We’re friends.  I don’t appreciate you being a dick to my friends.”

“I don’t like the way he looks at you.”

Clarke snorted.  “For God’s sake, Finn.  Insecurity really is not a good look on you.”

“I’m not insecure about your feelings.  I just want to make it clear to Bellamy that he lost.”

“He didn’t _lose_ . _I_ made a decision.  I’d thank you to not remove my agency from this, thank you very much.”

Finn opened his mouth to reply but an out-of-breath PA appearing over his shoulder stopped him before he could say anything.

“Clarke, they need you in wardrobe,” she said, before running off again.

“Busy day,” Finn said around a smirk.

“That’s my cue,” Clarke told him.  “See you on set later.”

“See you, babe.”

“Where’s Lover Boy tonight?” was the first thing Bellamy asked when he opened the door to his trailer to find Clarke standing outside, bottle of wine in one hand, bag of chips in the other.

“Does it matter?”

“Not particularly,” he’d said around a smile and opened the door wider.

“You said I could talk to you,” she said as she rooted through his fridge for the container of dip she knew was hidden somewhere.

“Always,” he answered, ripping open the bag.  “Wine opener’s in the cabinet next to you.”

She fished it out and handed it to him, trying not to notice how he deliberately avoided brushing his fingers across hers.

“I think Finn’s jealous,” she said after a pause.  “Of you.”

“Gee, you don’t say,” Bellamy said.

Clarke rolled her eyes.  “Bell, come on.”

He shrugged.  “Everyone with eyes can see that he’s jealous.”

She groaned. “I’ve tried to explain to him that he doesn’t have to be and yet he just….ugh.”

He pointed a wine glass at her.  “You’re here with me instead of your boyfriend on a Friday night, Clarke, that’s not exactly going to inspire confidence.”

“You’re my best friend,” she said simply.  “Is a girl not allowed to spend Friday nights with her best friend?”

His lips curled in a small private smile.  “As much as you and I know that that’s all there is to this, Finn doesn’t.”

“I don’t like the way he talks about you either,” she blurted.

“I don’t care what Finn Collins says or thinks about me, Clarke,” he told her gently.  “Save your energy for the battles that matter.”

She accepted the glass he held out to her and took a long sip.  “I’m sorry,” she said after a moment.

“Don’t be.”  He settled onto the couch next to her and drew his feet up under him.  “You’ve been edge since he got here.  I figured you were going to crack eventually.”

“But?”

“But I figured you’d go to Raven.”

“Raven hates Finn.”

Bellamy snorted.  “You think I don’t?”

“You’re better at hiding it.”

He hummed.  “Is he treating you okay?”

“We’re fine, Bellamy.”

“I just worry is all.”

“I know.  And I promise, we’re fine.”

“You would tell me if it wasn’t.  Right?”

She traced the seam of the sofa cushion with a finger.

“Clarke.”

“I don’t want you to worry about me, Bellamy.”

“I’m always going to worry about you.”

She laughed, and it sounded self-disparaging even to her ears. “Why are you still being so goddamn nice to me?”

“It’s a character flaw,” he admitted with a smile.  “Once you’re in, you’re in.”

“I don’t deserve that.”

“You deserve everything,” he said, voice so serious that it made tears spring to the corners of her eyes.  “I need to stop saying things like that,” he said after a pause, voice so soft she almost missed it.

“Yeah,” she whispered back.  “And I need to stop wishing you didn’t.”

 

gensuperwriters:

Script to Screen: 1x01 “Pilot”

Happy #tbt!  In honor of our wonderful fans, here’s a small tidbit from the episode that started it all -- the pilot!  We’re hard at work on season two but hope so be able to share more script tidbits with you all during the hiatus!

#gen super cw #script to screen #gabrena

 

ravereyes added a new photo:

When your roomie gets a new bae @clarkegriff @realfinncollins

harpermac, jazzyjordan, natemiller, and 450,000 others liked this

 

“ _CASTING_

 _After leaked BTS photos and cryptic social media posts from the cast started rumors about the nature of Finn Collins’ guest role on the second season of the CW’s_ Gen Super _, executive producer Marcus Kane is finally confirming them months ahead of the season’s expected premiere date -- Collins will be playing Jordan Dagnell, another freshman at the fictional Blackwell University, as well as Lena Meier’s (Clarke Griffin) rumored romantic interest._

 _(“TV News Round Up: Finn Collins’ Role on_ Gen Super _Confirmed by EP”. Variety. Web.)_

 

It was seven am in late June and an exhausted Clarke was dragging herself back to her trailer after a draining ten plus hours of night shoots.  Her body ached from the combat scenes she’d been doing with Gina and she’d been dreaming about the softness of her bed and a heat pack against her screaming muscles for hours now.

She stopped suddenly, however, when she made out the petite figure sitting on the steps of her trailer, clutching a travel mug of coffee, dark hair blowing in the wind, diamond ring sparkling in the first rays of the sunrise.

“Hey, Clarke,” Octavia Blake said, eyebrows raised.  “It’s been a while.”

“What are you doing here?” Clarke asked dumbly.

“I’m visiting my brother,” she answered simply.

“Bellamy didn’t tell me you were coming.”

“I asked him not to.”

Octavia stood, brushed off her jeans. “Are you going to invite me in?”

“That depends on why you’re here.”

O laughed.  “I’m not going to kill you, if that’s what you’re getting after.”

She stepped out of the way so Clarke could unlock her trailer door and followed her in.

“So what do you want then?”

“To talk.”

“Ah.”

“I’m going to ask you this question once, Clarke, and for both our sakes, and our sanity, I’d like you to be honest with me.”

“That’s a tall order considering I don’t know what the question is.”

Octavia bit her lip.  “Still.”

Clarke sighed.  “Fire away.”

“Why did you break up with my brother when I know you’re in love with him?”

Clarke froze.  “How do you know that?”

“So you’re not going to deny it?”

Clarke laughed.

“I saw the way you were looking at him.  I’ve known for months.  Now answer my question.”

“I’m not good for him, Octavia.”

“But you’re good for Backstreet Boys wannabe?  Come on, Clarke, we all went through our band boy phase but at least I had the decency to do it in high school.”

“Octavia, come on.”

She lifted her hands.  “Fine, fine.  I’ll try to be nice.”

“I broke up with Bellamy because I felt myself slipping.  I...I can’t let myself get that close to people, Octavia, because then I hurt them.  And I couldn’t bear it if I hurt Bellamy.”

“And how exactly does leaving him in the dust for _Finn Collins_ of all people not hurt him?”

Clarke ran a hand through her hair.  “Because as far as Bellamy’s concerned, the feelings I had for him were only ever just platonic.  And he _can’t_ know that they were anything more, O, please I’m begging you.”

Octavia gave her an appraising look.  “You’re lucky my brother is an oblivious idiot, too blinded by that goddamn self-righteous streak and his own feelings for you to notice that you’re head over heels for him.  Still.”

Clarke just nodded.

“Does Raven know?”

“I think she suspects but I haven’t confirmed anything.  She’s too close to Gina.”

“You’re worried it’d get back to Bellamy?”

“I trust them both, I do, but this isn’t something I can play around with.  It’s too important.  Bellamy’s too important.”

“Fuck, Clarke, you know I had every intention of flying up here and whipping your ass into shape for being a fucking _dick_ to Bell but then you pull out this bullshit and now I don’t know what to do.”

“Welcome to the last six months of my life.”

Octavia drifted over to the couch and sat down.  “I’ll keep your secret.”

Clarke looked over at her.  Octavia’s face was serious.  “Thank you.”

“But I’m not on your side, Clarke.”

“I know.”

“I know I don’t know as much about your past as Raven does.  But I think I know enough to be able to say this.”  She took a deep breath then continued.  “Bellamy’s stronger than you give him credit for.  And you’re better than you give yourself credit for.  And I don’t think it’s worth torturing yourself and him just because of some hypothetical misstep you might make.”  Clarke opened her mouth to say something but Octavia held a hand up.  “I’m not finished.  What you choose to do is your business.  And what Bellamy chooses to do is his business.  But _I_ think that the two of you need to actually fucking sit down and actually talk about your goddamn feelings for once.  None of this, ‘it’s better for him if I do this’ bullshit, he’s a grown man and he can make his own decisions.”

Clarke smiled thinly.

“Now, I also know you well enough to know that you’re not going to do that.”

Clarke laughed.

“But I just needed to get it on the record that I think you’re a fucking dumbass.”

“Thanks, O.”

“No problem.”

She stood up and squeezed Clarke’s shoulder.  “I don’t hate you, Clarke.  I respect that you’re trying to help Bellamy.  I just wish you both weren’t so fucking noble.”

“Things might be a bit easier that way,” Clarke admitted.

“Just think about it, okay?” Octavia asked, voice softer than before.  Clarke nodded.  “And when you’re back in LA, let me know, we’re going out for margaritas.”

Clarke laughed.  “Okay.”

Octavia let herself out and Clarke stayed on the couch, eyes trained on the floor as her phone vibrated with texts from her boyfriend wondering why she was late for breakfast.  She considered picking up the phone and texting back that she wasn’t feeling well and needed some time to herself but knew that wouldn’t do anyone any good.  Finn had been getting more and more cagey lately and she didn’t feel like making excuses.

The relationship between Lena and Finn’s character, Jordan, was heating up onscreen just as hers and Finn’s was cooling.  And still this was nothing.  In only a handful of weeks they’d start production on episode seven, the midseason finale and she’d have to kiss Bellamy.

The one thing they never did for show.  They’d talked about it early on and mutually decided that it was too personal of a thing to fake.  That was the one line they wouldn’t cross -- hand holding, arms over shoulders, kisses on cheeks, all fair game.  But real kissing was off the table.  Clarke had been relieved at the time and told herself it was because the thought of kissing someone she claimed to despise was too much, even for the charade Marcus had asked them to sell.

Now, as she forced herself to get up and clean herself up for breakfast with her boyfriend, the man she was supposed to want to spend her time with, she finally let herself admit the truth -- that maybe she hadn’t wanted to kiss Bellamy even from the start because she knew she’d like it too much.

And then maybe she wouldn’t want to stop.

 

June bled quickly into July.

Octavia went back to LA, Bellamy kept talking to her like nothing had changed, Finn backed off, and Raven finally started being able to spend more than five minutes in a room with him before she started looking like she needed to throw up.

“Episode seven starts on Monday,” Raven said over dinner one Friday.

It was just her and Clarke in Raven’s trailer.   _Gossip Girl_ was paused on the TV and Clarke was in the kitchenette grabbing them another round of beers.

Clarke sighed. “Who told you?”

“Marcus.”

“Jesus,” Clarke muttered.

Kane had been up the previous week to oversee shooting of one of the episodes while the writers’ room took a temporary hiatus.  He’d gone back the day before to start breaking the story on the finale which they were to due to start shooting around the beginning of September.

“He’s worried about you.”

“Hardly.  He’s worried that Bellamy or I are going to snap.”

“Clarke,” Raven chastised.  “I honestly don’t think he gives a shit about that anymore.  I think he regrets it.”

Clarke handed Raven her beer and sat down.  “Should have thought of that before he asked us to do it in the first place.”

“Then where would you be?  Still calling Bellamy names and staring daggers at him whenever you had the chance?  What fun.”

“No, I don’t think so,” Clarke said quietly.  “I think we would have won each other over anyway.”

“That would have been something to see.”

Despite herself, Clarke laughed.  “But you know, I don’t regret the way things happened.”

“No?”

Clarke shook her head.

“Do you think it would have been easier?”

Raven’s words reminded her too much of what she’d said to Octavia a handful of weeks before -- _things might be a bit easier that way_.

“Maybe.  But who wants easy?”

Raven snorted.  “Your long suffering friend who’s tired of watching you torment yourself?”

“I like to think of it as keeping you on your toes.”

“Oh, gee, thanks, Clarke,” Raven deadpanned.

Clarke grinned at her and reached for the remote.  “No more real life talk.  You promised me garbage and garbage I intend to get.”

Raven just smiled and sipped at her beer.  “Whatever you want, Clarke.”

 

Monday dawned cold for August at a blustery fifty-five degrees with a biting wind that ripped through the channel between sound stages.

Clarke had brought her script to set with her despite the fact that she’d had her lines memorized for weeks just to give herself something to do with her hands.  She felt jittery and shaky, like she’d had too much coffee.  Their call time had been for five minutes ago but she still hadn’t seen Bellamy yet as she was shepherded into hair and makeup.  Maybe that was for the best.  She wasn’t sure if she could handle looking at him yet.

Through some unspoken mutual decision, they’d avoided each other for most of the weekend.  Clarke had spent Friday night on Raven’s couch, hung out with Monty and Miller, who were quickly becoming the most sickeningly cute couple Clarke had ever seen, on Saturday, and gone bowling with Finn, Jasper, and Harper on Sunday.  Clarke had been half-expecting Finn to bring up the upcoming episode (and the kiss) or at least make some kind of sharp remark but he’d been the picture of civility all weekend, not even going tense when Bellamy inevitably came up in conversation.

Clarke knew the director had ordered the scenes the way he had today for a reason.  There was no reason to film a scene as emotionally charged as this one so early in the day, when Clarke, Bellamy, and the crew would have to work extra hard to shake off the remnants of sleep and be at their best.  But doing it this early meant that there wouldn’t be extra cast or crew members milling around the set.  They’d just be working with the skeleton crew that they needed to shoot a simple interior scene.  She was thankful for it.  Even if everyone thought she and Bellamy had kissed dozens, hundreds, maybe even thousands of times before this, she was thankful that someone at least was thoughtful enough to not force them to do it in front of an audience.

“You’re going to be fine,” Clarke’s stylist said to her as she finished teasing the final piece of hair out of her messy bun.  “How many times have you kissed a costar and it’s been fine?”

Clarke tried to smile.  “That’s the problem.  Bellamy’s not just my costar.”

She felt a hand squeeze down on her shoulder.  “Go kill it, Clarke.”

“Thank you.”

 

Bellamy was already on the soundstage when she walked in, trying to shelter her carefully messed-up hair from the wind.

He gave her the smallest hint of a smile and her fingers tightened on her script.

 _You can do this, Griffin_ , she told herself.   _You’ve kissed people on camera before.  Hell, you’ve kissed_ Bellamy _before._

He was dressed in one of Clarke’s favorites of Gabriel’s wardrobe -- a distressed varsity jacket that that costume department had dug out of a clearance bin in a second-hand store in the valley.  Even though it had originally been destined for Miller, his shoulders had been a bit broad for the seams and it had fit Bellamy perfectly, so Gabriel had ended up with it instead.  The burgundy of the collar stood out strongly against the tanned skin of Bellamy’s neck and his hair was just getting long enough to curl around the collar.

Clarke mentally punched herself.  This was going to be bad enough without her writing sonnets about Bellamy’s hair in her head.

The director noticed her approach and beamed, bringing his hands together in a sharp clap.

“Perfect, we’re all here.  Clarke, good morning.”

She nodded in his acknowledgement and pretended to yawn so she wouldn’t have to say anything back.

“I know you two don’t need it but let’s just make sure we’re all on the same page here.”  The director folded himself into his chair and looked between them.

“Bellamy, Gabriel has just found out that Lena violated a direct promise she made to him and went looking for Camila on her own.  He’s both furious with her for the decision and overjoyed that she made it home alive.  Meanwhile, Lena is more consumed than ever with finding Camila and the Scion and finally putting an end to terror they’re putting the kids through.  I want raw emotions here, guys, _raw_.  I know you can do it, don’t hold anything back.  Good?’

Clarke and Bellamy both nodded.

“Good!  Let’s get started then.”

Clarke wandered out onto the floor of the soundstage, dressed to look like Lena and Iris’ dorm room and leaned against the edge of her bed.  Her eyes caught on the twinkle lights threaded across the ceiling and she didn’t move her gaze as Bellamy stepped closer.

“Morning, princess,” he said quietly, quiet enough that the crew wouldn’t be able to hear the nickname.

“Morning,” she replied.

He shuffled a little and she barely held back her smile.  It was a strange thing to see Bellamy Blake so nervous.

“Bellamy! Out of the room, let’s go.”

“That’s my cue.”

She smiled.  “See you in a few.”

His smile was small and simple but it still warmed her heart.

“Quiet on the set!”

Clarke hauled herself onto Lena’s dorm bed and accepted the laptop that a PA held out to her.

“And we’re rolling in three...two…one!”

It was always amazing to Clarke how easily Bellamy melted into Gabriel.  They were remarkably similar really-had that same teasing glint in their eyes, the same lopsided smile.  But then there were those few small mannerisms that were so _unlike_ Bellamy but so like Gabriel that his skill took her breath away every time.  The sardonic curl to his mouth when he was teasing Lena.  The swagger in his walk when he was trying to make himself seem important.

“Going to lose,” Bellamy said and there was so much heartfelt conviction in his voice that it wasn’t difficult at all to let Lena’s apprehension drain out of her.

“How can you be sure?” she whispered.

Bellamy ran a hand through his hair.  Another one of his typical mannerisms that carried over into his acting.  His face was conflicted when he looked back at her, took a step closer.  She felt her breath catch in her throat.

“Because I’m sure of this,” he said quietly.

Another step closer.  Then another.  He was a mere foot away from her now and Clarke couldn’t look away.   _Lena_ couldn’t look away.

“Of us,” Bellamy added after another step.

Clarke swallowed. “Gabriel,” she managed.

His hand came up to her cheek, the pads of his fingers just barely skimming across her cheekbone.  She leaned into it and he pressed harder.  At some point he’d taken another step closer.

The lean in was slow, torturous.  She could feel his exhales against her lips, smell the mint of his toothpaste, hear the stutter in his breathing.  She resisted the urge to bite her lip as their foreheads rolled together and his hair tickled her temple.

Their eyes were still open, and his pupils were blown wide, nearly swallowing the deep nuanced brown she’d come to know so well.  It had so many depths and layers, just like Bellamy, just like her.  Just like them.

She let her eyes close as his other hand came to rest on her waist.  They were so close now that if either of them moved so much as a centimeter their lips would catch.  Clarke felt like her heart was going to beat out of her chest.

Then he was closing the distance.  Their lips brushed, once, so so carefully and Clarke resisted the urge to lean back in, to remember what Bellamy’s mouth tasted like.  Instead, she let him kiss her again, let him take careful control for the handful of seconds Kane had asked for, before bringing one of her hands, shaking just slightly, to his neck.  The skin there was soft and warm and familiar and Clarke let herself sag into him as his other hand came around her waist, hugging her close.  Her fingers buried themselves in his hair and their lips parted against each other.

The first touch of his tongue against hers was exhilarating.  It felt like jumping out of a plane without a parachute, like driving eighty down the highway, like the biggest risk she’d ever taken.

There was nowhere to hide now.  Not with the careful way he was holding her jaw, with the way his arm curved around her, with the way her fingers were buried in his hair like she never wanted to let go, with the way their mouths moved together, like they were drowning, and they were each other’s only chance at survival.

His breath was shakier against her lips when they pulled away.  Their foreheads were still pressed together, a piece of his hair caught between them and it felt perfectly imperfect.

“Was that okay?” he breathed against her skin and Clarke’s fingers tightened against the back of his neck, pulling him in.

The kiss she brushed across his mouth was careful, a promise.  ‘ _I trust you_ ’ it screamed.  ‘ _We’re in this together now_.’

“Yeah,” she said.

The smile that he pressed against her mouth was so unmistakably _Bellamy_ that for the briefest of moments she wanted to cry.  Instead, she slid her other hand up his arm, clutching onto his bicep, let him kiss her, and kissed him back with everything she had.

 

In hindsight Clarke should have been more worried by the radio silence on all sides that followed the morning’s scenes.

They broke for lunch after they finished and reconvened in the middle of the afternoon for a group scene.  Finn showed up at her trailer to walk her and though Clarke steeled herself for probing questions about that morning and thinly veiled jabs at Bellamy, none came.  In fact, they barely spoke at all.

Bellamy kept his distance while the director was blocking shots with the DP, locked in what looked like an intense conversation with Gina on the other side of the soundstage, and Clarke was grateful for it.  There was no reason to unnecessarily fan the flames of a fire that had just barely gone out.

It was at dinner when tension broke.  Clarke was sitting with Finn, Raven, Monty, and Miller.  Bellamy was a handful of tables over with Gina, Jasper, and Harper, laughing at Murphy’s outrageous impersonation of Jasper tripping over his own feet and nearly taking down all of the costume department with him earlier in the afternoon.  Clarke hadn’t even noticed that she was staring too long, caught up a bit too much in the way Bellamy’s skin crinkled around his eyes, until Finn nudged her.

“Whatcha looking at?” The question was a challenge.

Clarke looked away, felt her cheeks flushing.  “Nothing,” she muttered.

“Hmm.  Doesn’t look like nothing.”

“Finn,” she warned.

“Looks like you _ex-_ boyfriend to me.”

“Finn!” she snapped.

Conversation around the table came to a grinding halt.

“Everything okay?” Monty, ever the peacekeeper asked.

“Why don’t you ask Clarke here?” Finn replied, voice sickly sweet.

“Quit it,” Raven said, voice sharp.

Finn grinned at her.  “Oh, that’s an excellent idea.  I think we should put an end to it right now.”  He stood, chair grinding back against the floor.  He held out a hand.  “Clarke?”

Clarke looked to Raven.  There was well-hidden fear in the other girl’s eyes.

Clarke stood but avoided his hand.  “After you,” she said, voice clipped.  His grin just widened before he turned on his heel and led the way over to the table ten feet away.

Gina noticed their approach before Bellamy did, and elbowed him subtly.  He broke away from his conversation with Harper to watch them come closer.  His eyebrows knit together in confusion and, thinking of the sick smile on Finn’s face, Clarke felt her stomach twist with dread.

Finn threw himself into the empty chair next to Bellamy.  “Did you have fun making out with my girlfriend this morning, Blake?” he asked, voice too loud for how close he was leaning in.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Bellamy replied in a carefully mild tone.

“Did you miss it?  She’s a good kisser isn’t she?”

Clarke felt her cheeks flood with red. Bellamy opened his mouth but Gina beat him to it.

“That’s enough,” she snapped.

Finn tilted his head.  “I don’t think I was talking to you.  Not that you’re any better than he is.  Lying to everyone.  Though I must say, even if you lost out on Bellamy, Raven’s not bad as far as seconds go.”

Gina rocketed to her feet, eyes alight with rage.  “You shut your mouth right now, Finn Collins, or I swear to _God_.”

“You’ll what?”

Miller appeared behind Gina.  He put a hand on her shoulder.  “It’s not worth it,” Clarke heard him whisper into her ear.  He tugged on her shoulder.  “Come on, don’t let him bait you like that.”

Gina let him tug her away.

“Clarke?” Harper asked quietly.  Clarke looked over at her.  Then at Raven, frozen at the table behind them, shock in her eyes.  Clarke’s gaze moved back to Harper and the other girl must have read her wordless plea because she was up and out of her chair in seconds.  “Come on, everyone, clear out, let’s go.’

Murphy leaned back in his chair, slow grin sliding across his face.  “I don’t know, I’m kind of enjoying the show.”

Harper whacked him across the back of the head.  “Out of the chair _now_ , Murphy, before I make you.”

“All right, all right, Jesus, I was just joking.”

Harper, aided by a confused looking Jasper, herded the rest of the cast out of the room, leaving Finn, who was still grinning at Bellamy, Clarke, rooted to the ground, and Bellamy, who was now looking at Clarke in a way she wished he wouldn’t, even as it made her everpresent butterflies erupt into chaos.  It was too open, too raw.

“That’s what I thought,” Finn said looking between the two of them.  “You’re a good liar, Clarkey, you sure had me fooled.”

“Don’t talk to her like that.” Bellamy’s voice was low and dangerous.

“Or _what?”_ Finn demanded.

Bellamy looked down at the table, then pushed away from it in one smooth motion.  Finn followed, scrambling out of his seat and turning to face Bellamy.

“Tell me you’re not in love with her,” Finn continued. “Say it to my face and if I believe you, I’ll leave you alone.”

Bellamy’s eyes flashed to Clarke’s.  He swallowed.

“I can’t do that,” he admitted finally and the defeat in his voice made her heart ache.

“She didn’t want you,” Finn taunted.  “Don’t you _get_ that?”

“This isn’t about winning and losing,” Bellamy said quietly.  “And you have far from the whole story.”

“Spoken like a true sore loser.”

Bellamy’s eyes flew back to Clarke. “I can’t do this,” he said, to her, and she nodded, just barely.  Gratitude flashed in his eyes and he turned around.  There was tension in his shoulders and his hands were bunched up at his sides.  Clarke could only imagine how much it was taking out of him not to throw punches.

“Right, sure, walk away,” Finn taunted.  “Coward.”

“I’m not the one throwing around ugly words, Collins,” Bellamy said.  He looked over his shoulder.  “And I’m not the one feeling threatened.”

The door to the cafeteria banged shut behind him and Clarke felt the tension in her body drain away.  She slumped into the nearest chair and buried her face in her hands.

She felt Finn’s hand on her shoulder and shrugged him off.  “Don’t _fucking_ touch me,” she spat.

He pulled the hand away like she’d burned him.

“Clarke?” There was concern in his voice. “Are you okay?”

She felt a hysterical laugh bubble out of her throat.  “Oh, now you care?  Please.”

Silence.

After a long moment she looked up.  He looked sheepish now, shifting from foot to foot. “What the _fuck_ was that?” she demanded.

He bit his lip. “Clarke, I--”

“No,” she said, holding up a hand.  “I don’t want to hear excuses.  Actually I don’t think I want to hear anything from you right now.”

He gaped at her.

“I’m going to tell you how things are going to work from now on and you’re going to nod and that’s going to be it.  Okay?”

He opened his mouth.

“ _You’re going to nod_ ,” she repeated.

His mouth snapped back together.  There was a long pregnant pause and then he nodded.

“Good.  Now here’s how things are going to go.  Bellamy Blake is my costar and my best friend.  I’ve had confusing feelings for him since we first started working together.  But right now, I’m with you.  God help me, you’re making me wonder why right now but I know that underneath the douchebag you’re trying to pretend to be, there’s the person that I thought I could fall in love with.  So you’re going to stop being an asshole to my friends.  You’re never going to speak to Bellamy again unless otherwise required for the show.  You’re going to apologize to Raven and Gina for being an asshole and for outing Gina in front of all of our coworkers.  And most of all you’re going to let me do my job, which right now includes pretending to be in love with Bellamy and kissing him on camera, without griping, making snide comments, or being a _dick_.  Got it?”

He nodded again.

“Good.  Now I’m going back to my trailer and you’re going to go do whatever the fuck you want because I don’t really feel like being around you anymore.”

 

Raven was waiting for her in her trailer when she got back with two mugs of tea.

Clarke collapsed next to her and let Raven wrap an arm around her.  “You okay?” she asked into Clarke’s hair.

“No.  But I think I will be.”

Raven nodded.

“I’m sorry for what he said about you and Gina.”

“Not your fault.”

“Still.  That was uncalled for.  He was angry at me and angry at Bellamy and he lashed out.”

Raven rubbed a hand up her back.  “Gina and I are made of tough stuff, babe, we’ll be okay.”

Clarke nodded and slumped onto her shoulder.  Raven’s arms tightened around her.

“What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know,” Clarke admitted.  “I need some time to think about it.”

“I’m proud of you,” Raven whispered, probably ten minutes later.

“Thanks, Rae,” Clarke whispered back.  “I think for maybe the first time in a long time I’m proud of me, too.”

 

ginamartin added a new photo:

Here’s to new beginnings with good friends. <3 @ravereyes

thebestblake, clarkegriff, ravereyes, and 99,320 others liked this

 

JustJared.com @JustJared

Days before #SDCC2017 @Gina_Martin and @ravereyes confirm rumors of a romantic relationship.

 

gensuperdaily:

The cast of _Gen Super_ in the Entertainment Weekly Comic-Con ‘17 Photobooth

#gen super cw #clarke griffin #bellamy blake #raven reyes #nathan miller #harper mcintyre #gina martin #john murphy #sdcc17

 

Clarke Griffin @cgriffs

The @GenSuperCW panel at @SDCC is TODAY!  Who will we be seeing there?

 

clarkgriffindaily:

“The first season was about building a foundation, helping the audience get to know these characters and their pasts, their motives, and having them learn those things about each other.  Now season two is so much more about how those motives and the decisions they drive the characters to make are going to affect each other and create or resolve tension between the characters.  Season two is about relationships more than season one ever was.  It’s about trust and vulnerability and love and hatred.  And of course Gabriel and Lena are going to play a big role in that.”

\- Clarke Griffin on the second season of _Gen Super_ at 2017 San Diego Comic-Con in San Diego, California

#gen super cw #sdcc #clarke griffin

 

“ **_What have been the toughest challenges with shooting this season?_ **

Clarke Griffin: This season has been a lot more emotionally draining than the last.  It’s...very focused on the relationships between the characters and the shifting ground between them as their world is quite literally upended around them, and then finding how they all land on the other side of that chaos.  And it’s very difficult to put yourself into the mind of a character who is undergoing something like that.

 

**_How does the relationship between Gabriel and Lena factor into that?_ **

Bellamy Blake:  Well, it factors in quite significantly, I think I can say that.  No one’s going to come after me with a pitchfork for saying that Gabriel and Lena’s partnership is the foundation of this show.  Without them there is nothing holding this group of kids together, they’re a directionless mass that’s linked loosely by this shared experience.  But I think under Gabriel and Lena’s leadership they become something else.  Focused, impactful, important.  A force of nature.

 

**_I can’t help but notice that you and Clarke both have avoided anything but the most direct of questions about where this season will take Gabriel and Lena’s relationship.  So this is me directly asking -- where will this season take Gabriel and Lena’s relationship?_ **

Bellamy Blake: I’m on thin ice here, I’m sure you can appreciate that.  Clarke and I were informed of where their relationship was going before we started shooting the season and let’s just say it’s not a direction that came as a surprise to me.  Marcus [Kane, showrunner and executive producer] and the writers could have taken them off on this wild journey that would have been dramatic and maybe a bit excessive and definitely unrealistic but instead they chose to stay very true to who these characters are at their core.  So instead their relationship is a journey, I think, it’s about learning themselves and each other and learning how to work together.  It feels very real to me.

Clarke Griffin: We’ve been radio silent on this topic because it’s very difficult to talk about Gabriel and Lena without spilling how honestly wonderful their arcs are in season two, both individually and together.  But their relationship by the end of the season is a very honest one.  They’ve come to understand each other and even at the beginning of the season they’ve accepted this mentality of ‘okay, we’re better off together, we can do this as a team and we’re stronger that way.’  And even if they struggle with that a bit, as they’re likely to do, they always find this way to come back to each other in the end and that to me is, as Bellamy alluded to, the realest part.  Because when you have the that kind of bond, it’s inevitable that you come back together.

 

“ **_The first season got quite dark at times.  You were dealing with these dark themes of alienness and discrimination and beginning to touch on this idea of humans playing God, and that’s not something you see from the teen TV genre very often, especially not on a network like the CW.  Is that going to continue into season two?_ **

Raven Reyes: Oh, yes, absolutely.  We’re not doing this show to fit into the nice little boxes of teen television.  We’re not trying to do something that’s done before.  We’re trying to strike out on a new path and do something different that people have never seen before.  And so much of that involves including themes that are shocking, that you wouldn’t expect to see from a CW show.  So yes, definitely expect to see that in the next season.

 

**_What was it like to jump from being in one episode to suddenly being a season regular?_ **

Gina Martin: Well, it was jarring to say the least.  Neither myself nor my agent were told that were the show to get picked up for another season, I’d continue to be a part of it.  And with the way that Camila is written in the season one finale she could be a throwaway character.  The idea of the Scion that we’ve been given so far is that it’s this massive snaking organization with so many branches and arms and people.  Camila easily could have been a one-time minion and she also easily could have been something more. It was so exciting for me when Marcus Kane called me and told me that he wanted me for season two and as a season regular at that!  Working on this show has been an incredible experience and I’m so thankful I got to come back and work on it some more.”

( _“The cast of_ Gen Super _talks season two at SDCC 2017.”_  TVLine. Web.)

 

lenaayers:

Honestly am I the only one who’s been completely surprised by what Clarke and Bellamy have been saying about Gabriel and Lena at SDCC?  Like sure season one left off with them starting this partnership but it was such an uneasy one?  It could go any way really, with them becoming closer or them becoming even more uneasy with each other and I think it says a lot that they’re highlighting the fact that it’s the former.  More than anything what they’ve been saying, to me at least, has highlighted what they’re _not_ saying--that Gabriel and Lena’s story in season two isn’t about them learning to be partners but something else entirely.

#gen super cw #gabrena #gen super meta

 

TVLine.com @TVLine

#GenSuper season 2 will premiere on Tuesday, October 17 at 9pm on the CW.

 

clarkegriffindaily:

Clarke Griffin and Bellamy Blake attend the premiere of _Miles Past Sunset_ in New York, NY on August 8, 2017.

#clarke griffin #bellamy blake

 

ronansadam:

Okay, y’all, for real what is Bellamy Blake doing at the premiere of his ex-girlfriend’s movie in New York and why are they hanging off each other like it’s their honeymoon.

#you all know you’re thinking it #clarke, girl, where if your bf #what are you doing

 

 _“Many dismissed rumors that Clarke Griffin and new beau, Finn Collins, were experiencing problems after a significant dropoff of candid photos of the two despite them both being in Vancouver to film the second season of the CW’s breakout hit Gen Super , in which Griffin plays the female lead, crying ‘growing pains’ and asserting that the couple would work things out.  That is, if work things out means taking your ex-boyfriend and costar to the premiere of your newest film, as Griffin showed up to the premiere of Indra Woods’_ Miles Past Sunset _with Bellamy Blake on her arm.”_

(“ _Clarke Griffin shows up to_ Miles Past Sunset _premiere with the wrong man?”_ OK! Magazine. Web.)

 

In the end, deciding to ask Bellamy to be her date to the _Miles Past Sunset_ premiere was one of the easiest choices Clarke had ever made, made easier still by the fact that Finn was on location in Boston shooting a new film.  Raven had offered, but Clarke had resolutely turned her down.  When she’d lain awake at night thinking about that red carpet and who would be next to her, there’d only been one face in her mind.  Of course, it was inevitable.  Bellamy had been the one standing resolutely by her side during filming, even if he’d been doing it from 3,000 miles away, and he was the reason she’d let so much of herself and her very real-life struggles show through in the role.

Her character was autobiographical in a way she’d never let one be before.  She’d used her own pain and struggles as she’d worked to claw her way back to an even keel after Lexa as well as the uncertainty of her relationship with Bellamy and her feelings for him to inform her portrayal of a woman struggling with her own demons and the end result had been, in her fellow cast members’ words, breathtaking.

Now, as they filtered into the theater and took their seats, Clarke felt the first stirrings of nerves.  Bellamy looked over at her and put a hand on her knee.  He squeezed once then took it away, ever cognizant of their company.  As much as she wished he’d put it back and leave it there, she knew that wasn’t an option.  Gossip magazines would be awash with the news of her showing up to the red carpet with Bellamy by the morning if they weren’t already, and there was no reason to feed them anything else.

The lights dimmed and Clarke made herself relax.

The final cut was quietly moving in a way that Clarke hadn’t been expecting.  She’d known that Indra was toying around with the score and she’d eventually settled on something quiet and instrumental, so unobtrusive that you almost never noticed it.  At times the film was simply silent, in moments that came to coincide with Clarke’s character’s ever-quickening trip to rock bottom and then even lower.  She was surprised to find tear tracks on her face when the lights came up and quickly wiped them away.

She turned to look at Bellamy and he was sitting frozen in his seat, hands clasped in his lap, mouth open just slightly, eyes wide.

“Bell?’ she prompted.

He looked over at her and there was a wellspring of emotion in his eyes that made her breath catch.

“Holy shit,” he said after a long pause and she felt herself laugh.

“Yeah?” she asked.

“Holy shit, Clarke,” he repeated and reached out for her shoulder.  “That was incredible.  You were incredible.”

His voice was wondrous and almost disbelieving, like one might talk of a deity or a miracle.  Clarke was overrun with feeling -- gratitude, shock, amazement.  But most of all, a sudden and overwhelming terror.

Bellamy wasn’t supposed to look at her like that.  He wasn’t supposed to look at her like she’d shifted his whole world on its axis, like she _was_  his whole world.  He wasn’t supposed to make her feel this way, like she could conquer the universe if he kept looking at her like that.

She was standing before she’d even consciously made the decision.  “I have to go,” she stammered and fled for the bathroom.

It was blessedly empty.  She rushed into a stall and slammed the lock home before she collapsed against the door, taking deep shuddering breaths and trying to stop what felt like an oncoming panic attack.

Only when her chest stopped heaving and her heart no longer felt like it was going to pound out of her ribcage did she let herself think.  Think about the way Bellamy’s hands felt on her skin and the way his gaze lit her up from the inside.  About the way his laugh sounded like music and his smile made everything feel better, if only for a fraction of a second.  About the way he’d always so selflessly put her first even when it was obvious that he was hurting.  About the way he’d come back to her, again and again, even when she was the one doing the hurting.

She remembered her own words from the stage of Ballroom 20 in the San Diego Convention Center: _“when you have the that kind of bond, it’s inevitable that you come back together.”_ She’d been talking about Gabriel and Lena, and the equal footing that they had clawed out for themselves.  But perhaps it applied even better to her and Bellamy, two people who, by all means, should never have become anything to each other at all.  And yet instead, here she was in the bathroom of her own movie premiere, overwhelmed with memories of him, in her apartment, petting her cat, lying next to her on a hotel room bed.  His fingers in her hair, hers around his neck.  Them dancing at his sister’s wedding, lounging by a pool in Arizona, sipping hot chocolate at a ski lodge in Whistler.

Bellamy had been an accident.  A mistake.  An indulgence.  And before she’d noticed, he’d become something else.

He’d become everything.

And Clarke had been too tied up in her own baggage and her own insecurities and her own selfishness to see it.

Her life before Bellamy had been a parade of girlfriends and boyfriends and hookups.  People like Finn who looked good on paper in in photographs she could take home to her mom but up close, in the soft quiet light of Clarke’s bedroom, were ugly and mean.  People who thought they loved her but who loved themselves more.  And Clarke, so torn down by years of failures, that she’d convinced herself it was what she deserved.  That she didn’t deserve happiness, that she wasn’t capable of it, and anything good was a brief blip on her radar, just the universe teasing her, saying _look what you could have if you weren’t so goddamn fucked up_.

But it didn’t have to be that way.  Clarke didn’t have to be a passive observer in her own life, letting the tides buffet her from one place to another, crying into Raven’s shoulder when things didn’t go her way even though she’d made no attempts to fix things in the first place.

She squared her shoulders and wiped under her eyes, even though she hadn’t been crying, and reached for the lock.  She opened the door and crossed to the wall of sinks across the room.  She grabbed a towel, dried her hands, looked into the mirror.  Then froze.

Bellamy was staring back at her, a challenge written into his face, arms crossed over his chest.

“We need to talk,” they said at the same time and for the first time, Clarke felt ready to have the conversation they should have had almost a year earlier.

 

“Miles Past Sunset _is, at its core a story that we’ve seen often in the indie sphere -- a character, in this case a woman named Emily (Clarke Griffin) in a violent downward spiral and her eventual hairpin turn and attempts to return to normal.  Emily is far from unique but it’s clear from the film’s treatment of her that she’s not supposed to be.  The narrative, and Griffin’s portrayal of Emily, requires the audience’s previous understanding of Emily’s psyche._

_Director Indra Woods’ treatment of the material, and almost distant handling of Emily’s story, as she sinks farther and farther into a deep slump almost breaks the viewer’s heart more than the events playing out on screen.  The framing of her story brings to mind in all of us a time when we were suffering and the world around us paid no mind.  Every day Emily is passed by those who look at her but never see her and the armslength that Emily is held at is a poignant and painful technique to force this feeling of loneliness onto the viewer._

_Griffin’s acting is some of her strongest.  She’s always been an excellent character actor, especially for her age, bringing complex characters to life with an effortlessness that’s enviable.  However with Emily she does something even more difficult -- making a two-sided and bland character so human and relatable that by the film’s climax there wasn’t a single member of the audience at the premiere who wasn’t moved to tears by her emotional breakdown.  Simultaneously, Griffin brings an emotional vulnerability to the character that’s difficult to fake and, taking into account what she was going through during the time of the shoot, is unlikely to be manufactured.  Clarke Griffin is famous, of course, for her very public meltdown in a New York City restaurant and subsequent breakup with model girlfriend, Lexa Somers.  She’s risen back into the ranks of Hollywood’s young stars through her role as Lena Meier in the CW’s_ Gen Super _and her tumultuous relationship with costar and now ex-boyfriend Bellamy Blake was in full swing while_ Miles Past Sunset _was shooting in Toronto._

_The raw emotion in Griffin’s acting here is something we’ve never seen from her before -- true use of her own emotions to inform her character, and wherever those feelings originated from, they work in her favor here, crafting a complex psyche for a character that on paper seems very simple.  The result is blatant relief on the part of the audience as Emily finds her way back to normal life and an overwhelming disappointment when she slips again, marking Griffin’s as the strongest acting in a film filled with veteran indie actors.”_

(“ _Film Review:_ Miles Past Sunset.” _Variety. Web.)_

 

Clarke, swathed in a bathrobe, curled up at the head of her bed, and sipped at the coffee they’d ordered from room service.  Bellamy sat next to her, the careful two feet between them not hard to maintain on the kind size bed Anya had insisted she get.  The New York City skyline sparkled behind him and still at this late hour, the sound of horns and sirens filtered up the fifty floors and through Clarke’s open window.

Bellamy had held out a hand to her in the bathroom, quiet acceptance on his face that they wouldn’t be having this conversation in a public bathroom where anyone could walk in, and she’d let him put that hand in the small of her back.  He’d guided her outside and they’d escaped quickly, shaking a few hands, and begging off the after party she’d been expected to go to with lies about feeling sick.

Their limo ride back to the hotel had been silent as had the elevator trip to Clarke’s room.  They’d migrated to the bed without thinking about it, and Clarke had slipped on the robe over her dress, feeling too exposed in the silky fabric.  Bellamy was still wearing his suit, even if the bow tie was carelessly undone, hanging around his collar, the first two buttons popped and revealing the sharp indents above his collarbones.

“I want to be honest with you,” she said finally, staring into her coffee mug.  She couldn’t look at Bellamy yet, not when she didn’t know how he’d react.

“Okay,” he said, voice a quiet rumble.

“I’m fucked up.”

“Clarke--”

“Bellamy, please.”

He fell quiet.

“I made a lot of dumb decisions when it came to romantic relationships when I was a kid.  I dated a lot of people who didn’t care much for me but I did it because my mom told me that’s what I was supposed to do.  And then when I realized that I liked girls like I liked boys, well….” She trailed off.  “Things just got worse from there.”  She took a moment then continued, “When we were cast, I was fresh off that breakup with Lexa.  It was one of my lower emotional points and I guess...I’d just come to the conclusion that there were people who got to be happy and people who didn’t and I was one of the people who didn’t.”

She heard and felt him shift closer but still refused to look over.

“I told myself that you were too good for me. That I’d just hurt you and that you deserved better than me because _you_ were better.  But I felt myself slipping and starting to fall for you.”  She laughed.  “You’re just so _easy_ to be with and you make me think that life can be simple.”  She looked up at him.  “And that went against everything I knew about myself so instead of doing the hard thing and taking the leap I did what I always did and went back to what I knew.  Someone that I was supposed to like.  Someone flashy and pretty and maybe not so nice, but someone I knew I couldn’t drag down into the mud with me because they were already there.”

Bellamy blew out a long breath.

“You know that I don’t see you like that, like…something dirty or broken.”

“You should.  I’m a mess.”

“But don’t you see that I don’t care?  Clarke, look at me.”

She did.

“We’re all fucked up on the inside.  Hell, _I’m_ fucked up on the inside.  But isn’t that one of the most beautiful things about life?  That we can be these horrible cosmic messes sometimes but it doesn’t matter because _I love you_ , horrible cosmic mess and all.”

She swallowed again.

Clarke,” he whispered.  “I’m going to ask you a question and I want you to tell me the truth.”

She nodded.

“Are you happy?  With Finn?”

She shook her head.  “No,” she admitted.  “I thought I could be but I’m not.”

“Then why---”

“Because for me it’s the natural order of things.  I was stuck in this holding pattern of running from relationship to relationship and never...never thinking about why.”

There were tears shining in Bellamy’s eyes and they made Clarke’s heart ache.

She took a deep breath.  “But I decided in the bathroom,” she told him, forcing herself to keep looking him in the eye.  “I decided that I’m done.  With that.”

There was hope in Bellamy’s eyes now.  She squeezed his hand, then laced their fingers together.

“When we broke off whatever it was we were doing--” He chuckled and she smiled. “--I told you that I loved you.”  She heard his breath catch.  “It wasn’t a lie.  I do love you.  I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone.  And it _fucking terrifies_ me.”

“I’m in love with you,” he blurted out. “And I _could not give two shits_ what you’ve been through or how much emotional baggage you have.  I’ve never felt this way about anyone before.  Not even Gina, and fuck, I was going to _marry_ her.”  He touched her cheek.  “Please, Clarke.”

“Please what?’ she asked softly.

They were nearly pressed together now, their crossed knees pushed together, fingers linked so tightly Clarke thought they might not ever be able to let go, his fingers pressed to her cheek, wiping away the tears she wasn’t aware she was crying.

“Please don’t hurt us anymore,” he said, so softly.

“I never meant to,” she admitted.  “All this time I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“You did,” he said, but it wasn’t accusatory, it was a fact.

“I know.”  She brought her free hand up to close over his on her cheek.  His eyes drifted closed and leaned forward until their foreheads were pressed tight together. “You know what I said at SDCC?” she asked after a long pause.  “About Gabriel and Lena always finding their way back to each other?”

“Yeah?”

“I think that’s us, Bell,” she said, heart pounding in her chest.  “No matter what the world throws at us, no matter how much I tried to keep us apart, we still ended up here.”

“In a hotel room in New York City at three am?” he asked, humor coloring his voice.

“No,” she said.  “Together.”

“Say it again,” he whispered, fingers splaying across her cheek.

“Bellamy and Clarke,” she said carefully.  “ _Together_.”

“Fuck, I love you,” he said in a rush and she laughed, a breathless and out-of-control laugh.

“I’m going to break up with him.”

“Yeah?”

“I never should have been with him in the first place.”

“What are you saying?”

She leaned back so she could look him in the eye, pulled his hand off her cheek and laced those fingers together, too, then squeezed.

“Bellamy Blake, I think a part of me has loved you since we met, all those fucking years ago.  You challenge me, you make me laugh, you make me so fucking _happy_ .  I thought I could live without you and maybe I can but that’s not what’s important becuase I don’t _want_ to.  I don’t want to live without you.”  She took a deep breath, pressed their foreheads back together.  “I love you,” she whispered into the space between their lips, a quiet confession meant just for them.  “I’m _in love_ with you.  And I want to be with you.  For real.”

His breath whooshed out of him and then he was lunging forward and she turned her head just in time so his lips skated across her cheek.

“What--?” he managed and she shook her head.

“Not yet,” she whispered, pressing a finger against his parted lips.  “Not with Finn still hovering over our heads.”  She framed his face with her hands.  “We’re doing this right, okay?

He nodded.  “Okay.”

“I’m going to call him as soon as we get back to Vancouver.  I promise.”

He leaned forward and pressed his lips to her forehead.  She let her eyes drift closed.  “I believe you,” he told her.  “And like I told you before, I’d wait forever.”

She gripped his hand in both of hers.  “I’m not asking for forever,” she told him.  “Just a little while longer.”

 

Finn took the news better than she’d been expecting.

He didn’t yell, or get angry.  He just stared at her over his kitchen table, eyes cold and emotionless.

“I should have expected this,” he said, tracing the edge with a finger.  “I should have known you were still in love with Blake.”

“I’m sorry for dragging you into this,” she told him honestly.  “It wasn’t fair of me.”

He didn’t say anything.

“But even if I wasn’t in love with Bellamy we just...we don’t _work_ , Finn.  Surely you see that.”

He nodded slowly but it seemed more like an automatic reaction to being asked a question than anything else.  “Sure, Clarke,” he said.  “Whatever you say.”

She stood.  “I’m going to go.”

“Probably better, yeah.”

“Thank you,” she said.

“For what exactly?”

“I don’t know, not throwing things?  Not getting angry with me?”

“What the hell would be the point?  If there’s one thing I’ve learned by now it’s that when Clarke Griffin’s made up her mind, she’s made up her mind.”

Clarke smiled and ducked her head.  “Yeah,” she admitted, “that’s true.”

She waited until she got home to text Bellamy.

> **CLARKE** _: It’s done._

The response came in barely seconds later.

> **BELLAMY** _: I’m so proud of you, princess.  I love you._

Clarke bit down on her lower lip and tried not to cry.  The tears spilled over anyway.  She fit her fingers to the keys and let herself type out what she’d wanted to say for months.

> **CLARKE** : _I love you, too, Bell._

She fell asleep that night with a smile on her face, phone clutched to her chest, open to a candid of Bellamy she’d snapped months ago, his hair wild and blowing across his face, grin wide and eyes bright.  She couldn’t believe she was lucky enough to be on the receiving end of that smile for another day.  And she promised herself she wouldn’t squander it.

 

She woke up the next morning before her alarm went off and stared up at the ceiling.  Her phone had cut lines into her cheek from falling asleep on it and her fingers ached from her tight grip, which is how she first noticed the frantic vibrating.  That was what had woken her up, she thought, and she turned it over to see seven voice mails, twelve missed calls, and a slew of Twitter notifications.  Anya.  Raven.  Octavia.  Harper.  Even a handful from Miller, Jasper, and Murphy, of all people.

With unease curling in her stomach she ignored the calls and voicemails and opened her messages instead.  At the top was a text from Raven with just a website URL.  Clarke took a deep breath and clicked on it.

The page loaded and Clarke’s mouth went dry.  "Holy  _fuck_ ," she whispered, her hands shaking so hard she could barely read the screen.

The headline trumpeted: “Faking it all for Publicity: The Real Story Behind ‘Bellarke.”  The byline was Finn’s name.

Clarke dropped her phone as the screen lit up with another call from Anya.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! And bearing with this honest to God beast of a chapter. Please drop me a comment here or on [Tumblr if you enjoyed the chapter! I love hearing from all of y'all and it does help me write faster.](http://rebelprincebell.tumblr.com)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well it certainly has been a hot second hasn't it? I'm not sure if any of you are still with me (and if you are, I salute you and your eternal patience). This chapter has been 90% done for months but I couldn't find that last push of motivation to finish it, or the right words to really close the chapter on this part of Bellamy and Clarke's story.
> 
> Maybe you noticed already that I finally have a chapter count on this fic. This is the last real chapter -- there will be an epilogue after this (that hopefully I'll have a chance to write this weekend when I'm home for Thanksgiving) and then this fic, which has been such a labor of time and of love, will be over. I'm sure I'll have something sappy in the notes section to say about it then.
> 
> But for now, I hope you enjoy this peace offering after six months of my absence. If you're still here reading this, thank you. I appreciate all of you more than I will ever be able to put into words.

“I’m going to kill him,” Octavia said, matter-of-fact and unflinching.

“O,” Bellamy sighed, and Clarke ached to reach through her computer screen and card her fingers through those loose curls.  He looked like he hadn’t slept much the night before, and she’d watched him down no less than two cups of coffee since they’d started this Skype call.

“Bellamy’s right,” Raven said from next to her.  “We have to be fucking smart about this.  Because he sure as hell was.”  
  
“I knew he was a snake,” Octavia spit out.  “Clarke, didn’t I tell you he was a snake?”  
  
“Yeah, that’s all well and good, but all four of us know that Clarkey here doesn’t have the world’s best taste in romantic partners.  Or a good history with listening to her friends,” Raven replied with a strong look in Clarke’s direction.

Clarke rolled her eyes.  “Personally, I think things are looking up in that department.”

“Maybe the first one.  If you’d listened to me months ago, none of this shit would have happened and you and Bellamy would be married with two kids and a Labrador by now.”

Octavia was nodding and then screeching.  She shoved Bellamy sideways and he squawked.  Clarke guessed he’d elbowed her offscreen.

“Okay, you two, stop it,” Raven chastised as Bellamy reached over to shove his sister again.  “We called this meeting because we have some serious planning to do.  And I refuse to let the thing that’s made my best friend incandescently happy slip away because Finn Collins is a raging douchebag.”

“If we didn’t give everyone trophies in Little League and cultivate this culture of entitlement, none of this would have ever happened,” Octavia added.

“I think that culture of entitlement you’re referring to dates back a lot farther than Little League, Octavia, but whatever you say,” Clarke replied dryly.

Octavia waved a dismissive hand.  “Whatever.  But I’m with Raven.  Bell and Clarke deserve to be happy  _ together _ and I’m not letting that greasy-haired asshole stand in the way of that.”

“So...what do we do then?” Bellamy asked. “Because this isn’t going to blow over.  And honestly, it’s coming at what’s almost the worst possible time.  Just over a month before season two premieres,” he added, as though the other three didn’t know exactly what he was talking about.

“Well, luckily, you two are going to DragonCon in a week.  There’ll be questions but you can set the record straight.” Raven paused.  “I feel like that’s the best time to do it.

“We’re going to have to clear any kind of public statement with our agents and Bellamy’s publicist,” Clarke warned.  “Anya would skin me if I said anything she didn’t agree to first.”

“I think we need to make a statement,” Bellamy argued.  “I wanted to say something this morning but I wanted to talk to Clarke first.”

“I’ll call Anya,” Clarke agreed and unfurled herself from the couch.  “I’ll be back in a second.”

The other three nodded and Clarke padded into her bedroom.  Paisley was curled up in the middle of her bed, one eye cracked open.  Clarke sank onto the edge of the bed and the cat stood up, stretched, and slowly wandered over to her, rubbing up under the hand she had resting on the comforter.  Clarke smiled, scratching behind Paisley’s ears as the phone rang.

True to form, Anya picked up on the first ring.  “Clarke?”  Her voice was sharp but relieved, and Clarke felt a bit of the tension in her drain out.

“Hey, Anya.”

“I’ve been calling you all morning, why haven’t you answered?”

Clarke huffed out a long breath.  “I’ve been...collecting my thoughts, I guess you could say.”

Her agent’s voice was softer when she asked, “How are you?”

“Not great, if I’m being honest.  I feel betrayed.  I told Finn those things in confidence and he just...blabbed them all over the goddamn Internet without a care in the world.”

“And how are things with Bellamy?”

Clarke laughed humorlessly.  “Funny you should ask because that’s what started this whole mess.”

“Finally told him how you feel, did you?” Clarke could hear Anya’s smile through the phone.

“Actually, yes.  And then I told Finn we were done and he turned around and did this.”

“Actors can be assholes, Clarke, you know this as well as anyone.”

“Yeah, I just…” She trailed off.  “I thought this was when I finally got to be happy.  You know?”

Anya was quiet for such a long moment that Clarke pulled her phone away from her ear to make sure the call hadn’t been disconnected.  “Yeah,” Anya said finally.  “But, Clarke?”

“What?”

“Just because the universe put another roadblock in front of you doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try to get over it.  You’ve overcome worse than this.  And I believe that if you put your mind to it, you can do anything.”  She paused.  “I don’t tell you this enough, but you’re one of the strongest people I know.  And I’m so proud of you.”

Clarke blinked away the tears threatening to spill out of the corners of her eyes.  “You’re going to make me cry.”

Anya’s laugh was a bit garbled.  “Well, good, because I definitely made myself cry.”

“For the first time ever?”

“Oh, come on, I’m not that heartless.”

Clarke laughed.  “Thank you,” she said quietly.

“I mean it.  You’re an incredible woman, Clarke, and you deserve to be happy.  And I know Bellamy Blake is good for you.  It’s just that sometimes life doesn’t just let us have what we want.  Sometimes we have to fight for it.”

“Well, I’m done being a passive bystander in my own life,” Clarke declared.  “I know that I want Bellamy and I’m ready to fight tooth and nail until I have him.”

“Good.”

“But as nice as this little heart-to-heart was, I didn’t call you for a pep talk.”

“I figured.”

“We thought the best course of action would be to make a blanket statement about this whole shitshow at Dragon Con.  Because we’re going to get asked.”

“Without a doubt.  And I agree.  I can coach you on what to say if you’d like.”

“I’d appreciate that.  But Bellamy wants to address it now.  So Finn doesn’t get to think he has the upper hand.”

Anya hummed.  “If you do put out a statement today it comes from me and it comes from Bellamy’s agent.  I don’t want you two speaking to anyone about this other than Raven and Octavia and your representatives until you’ve calmed down.”

“I’m plenty calm.”

“You’re plenty calm until the Twitter trolls come out of the woodwork and start attacking you again.”

Clarke rolled her eyes.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me, Clarke, I know you, and I know how you react in situations like this.  Stay off the Internet, watch Netflix or something, and let me handle the immediate fallout.  And tell Bellamy to do the same.”

“Okay.”

“And don’t go near him for a couple days.”

“ _ What _ ?”

“It’ll just stir up the press.  Stay out of TMZ’s way if you can, but definitely don’t let anyone see you with Bellamy.  Or Octavia.  I’ll have my assistant rebook your flight to Atlanta so you’re not on the same one.”

“Don’t you think that’s a little excessive?” Clarke protested.

“Look, Clarke, I know you probably want to see him more than anything right now and I  _ understand _ , I do, but right now the best thing you can do is look after your own image.  We’ll work on how people perceive you and Bellamy together later, all right?”

Clarke huffed. “Okay.”

“Maybe have Raven stay with you for a couple days or something so you’re not alone.”

“She already did all my grocery shopping for me,” Clarke said around a small smile.

Anya laughed.  “She’s a pit bull that one.  Call me if you need anything else okay?  I’ll get to work on that statement.”

“Thanks, Anya.”

“Of course, Clarke.  Talk soon.”

The line went dead and Clarke dropped her phone into her lap.  Paisley climbed in after it, purring incessantly.  Clarke smiled down at the cat.

“Now you like me, huh?”

Paisley just purred louder.

Bellamy and Octavia were still on Clarke’s laptop screen when she emerged from her bedroom.  Raven made a loud shushing noise and Octavia stopped whatever she’d been saying in the middle of a sentence.

“That’s not at all suspicious,” Clarke said as she took her seat by Raven again.

“What’d Anya say?” Bellamy asked, a bit too quickly.

Clarke shrugged.  “She’s writing a statement for me now.  She said she doesn’t want either of us talking to anyone before DragonCon, something about waiting for our emotions to level out.  Oh, and we’re not allowed to see each other until we get to Atlanta.  She’s putting me on a new flight and everything.”

Bellamy’s mouth dropped open.  “What?  How the hell am I supposed to survive the next week if I don’t---” He cut himself off.  “If I don’t get to see you?”

“Yes, please, let’s keep this PG,” Octavia drawled.

Bellamy elbowed her again.

Clarke smiled.  “I’ll see you next weekend, Bell.  Promise.”

His answering smile was tight around the edges.  “Okay,” he said softly.

“ _ Gross,” _ Octavia protested, but Clarke could see that she was smiling, too.

Raven squeezed her shoulder and Clarke ducked her head, already feeling her cheeks color.

“Hey, O,” Raven said finally, “why don’t you and I clear out and let Bellamy and Clarke talk.  I have a feeling there’s some things they’d like to say to each other.”

Octavia was already nodding when Clarke looked back at the screen.  She leaned into Bellamy’s side and whispered something into his ear.  His cheeks flamed red but he nodded.

“Thanks, O,” he whispered back and she smiled, ruffling a hand through his hair.

“I’m going to go to Starbucks, okay, Clarke?  That one that’s like super far away and has no parking and a really long line.  I’ll be gone for like forty minutes.”

Clarke laughed, disbelieving.  “It’s not like we’re going to have Skype sex or something, Rae, you can go to the closer one.”

“No?” Bellamy asked, his eyebrows raised.  “Well, fuck, I’m out then.”

But he was beaming at her and Clarke felt those familiar knots twisting in her stomach.  “Shut up,” she said, just because she thought she should say something.

Raven and Octavia laughed.

“Have a good afternoon, lovebirds,” Octavia sing sang.  “Don’t let the Backstreet Boys wannabe ruin it.”

“You know the worst thing,” Raven said as she stood up.  “I don’t even think he’s that bad of a singer.  I’m going to have to delete all his music now that he’s turned out to be a two-faced bastard.”

“Somehow I think you’ll live,” was Octavia’s dry reply as she walked out of the frame.

Raven grabbed her keys off Clarke’s entry table and then the door was slamming behind her and she and Bellamy were alone.

“Hi,” she said, pulling her feet up under her and readjusting the laptop screen.

“Hi,” he said back, smile pulling at his lips.

She blushed and looked away.  “Why do I suddenly feel like we’re in high school again?” she asked her couch cushions.

Bellamy laughed, that loud, booming, joyous sound she loved so much and not for the first time, she wished she could bottle it up and keep it with her.  Though maybe, she thought, after all this bullshit was over, she wouldn’t have to.  Because she’d have the real thing.

“This is better than high school,” he was saying.

“Oh?”  
“Yeah.  None of my girlfriends were nearly as hot as you.”

Clarke spluttered.

“I can’t believe I don’t get to see you until next Saturday,” he continued.

Clarke bit her lip.  “Somehow you’ll survive.”

He grinned.  “If just out of spite.”

“For Finn?”

He nodded.  “Mhmm.”

“Bellamy,” she chastised fondly.

“I had to watch him parade you around in front of me.  It’s only fair that I get to return the favor.”

“I never took you for the jealous type.”

He shrugged.  “I’m not really.  Usually.”  He scrubbed a hand through his hair.  “I’m just so angry at him, Clarke.  I don’t get how he could do this to you.”

“It doesn’t matter,” she told him softly.  “What matters is that it’s not going to work.  You and I are going to come out on the other side of this happy and together and he’s just going to be the petty dick who couldn’t stand rejection.”

“I love you,” he said.  “I just realized I haven’t told you that today.”

“Oh, are we going to be that couple?” she joked.

“Princess, we already are that couple.”

The nickname brought her blush back in full force but she forced herself to look into Bellamy’s eyes this time, forced herself to look at the pure love and adoration shining out of his face and reminded herself,  _ that’s for you.  That’s all for you _ .

“Yeah,” she said finally.  “I guess you’re right.”

A silence fell between them.

“And I love you, too,” she said.

He smiled softly.  “See you soon, Clarke.”

She reached out and touched the computer screen.  “See you soon.”

It sounded like a promise.

 

gabrielslena:

Literally the last three days in the Gen Super fandom have been wilder than anything I’ve ever lived through on this godforsaken website and I was here for all of it: DashCon, the Mishapocalpyse, Tumblarity, whatever the fuck the superwholock fandom was (or is ~shudder~).  But Jesus Christ, man, y’all are wild.

#gen super #bellarke #clarke griffin #bellamy blake

 

_ “I’ll admit that, as a person who spends probably too much time on Reddit, I’ve seen a lot of crazy and strange and really just downright bizarre things on the Internet.  I’d imagine most of us have.  But I’ve never seen anything quite like the Internet’s response to the news that  _ Gen Super _ costars and ex-couple Bellamy Blake and Clarke Griffin have supposedly been faking their relationship for the show’s publicity and to stabilize and rebuild Griffin’s public image since the duo started dating in the spring of last year.  This information comes courtesy of an article written by Griffin’s most recent beau, actor and solo artist Finn Collins, published on a fringe celebrity gossip site, but which quickly gained traction after it made its way onto Twitter. _

_ Clarke Griffin, you’ll remember, achieved Internet notoriety after throwing spaghetti over the the front of her now ex-girlfriend, Lexa Woods, in a New York City restaurant before storming out.  At the time of their respective casting in the CW’s newest breakout hit, Bellamy Blake was TV’s newest golden boy, straight off a recurring gig on popular TNT drama  _ Heaven’s Gates _.  The two charmed America (and Tumblr) almost immediately with their knockout good looks, stunning physical chemistry, and, once the show premiered, exceptional acting chops. _

_ So it’s no surprise that the bombshell that their relationship may have been a sham the whole time hit the Internet, and especially the  _ Gen Super _ fandom, hard.  Nevertheless, the Internet has reacted in a way that only the Internet can, and the story’s not even over yet.  Griffin’s agent released a short statement the day after Collins’ article was published, claiming that the situation was more complicated than the article made it out to be and that Griffin and Blake would both be addressing it at this weekend’s DragonCon in Atlanta.  Griffin and Blake have been on the convention’s guest list since early April.” _

( _ “Finn Collins Revealed Clarke Griffin and Bellamy Blake’s Relationship Was a Publicity Stunt and the Internet Hasn’t Been the Same Since.”  _ BuzzFeed. Web.”

 

Stepping into the lobby of the hotel in Atlanta was a relief, and not just from the stagnant humidity that was still hanging in the air, remnants of a summer Clarke wished would just end already.  The trip from LA to Atlanta had been nothing short of extraordinarily awkward--she’d been recognized almost immediately, what with her and Bellamy having been trending on Twitter almost consistently since the article dropped, and her face being plastered all over every gossip website.  Anya had somehow managed to talk the DragonCon organizers into springing for a first class ticket and so she’d been blissfully out of the public view for the majority of the flight, seated next to a middle-aged businessman who’d tinkered around with complicated looking spreadsheets on his laptop the whole time.

Bellamy had landed that morning and was already at the hotel.  Clarke hadn’t seen him in almost two weeks and felt his absence like a physical ache somewhere in her ribcage.  She handed her driver’s license to the clerk at the reception desk, took her keys, said her thank you, and dragged her suitcase to the elevator.  She was bone-deep exhausted and had been daydreaming about falling into a feather-soft hotel room bed since the plane’s wheels had touched down on the tarmac.

She pushed the button for her floor and pulled out her phone.

 

> **CLARKE:** Just got to the hotel.  I’m room 817.
> 
>  

She waited until the elevator  _ dinged _ onto her floor but didn’t receive a response.  She sighed and wheeled her bag out into the hallway.  It was late and they’d probably have an early morning the next day.  Bellamy was probably eating dinner, or showering, or even asleep.  She’d see him the next day.  It would be fine, she told herself.  After all, what was one more day?

But it felt like a desert to cross as she stopped in front of her door and slid her room key into the lock.  The lock beeped and she opened the door, taking in the queen sized bed, freshly made with chocolates on the pillow, and the stunning view of the Atlanta skyline she had through her window.  There was even a small balcony, with two sturdy-looking deck chairs on it and a tiny round table between them.

She flopped down onto the bed and thought about everything she probably should be doing--washing off her makeup, maybe paging through the room service menu to find something for dinner, definitely unpacking and hanging up the shirt she’d brought to wear to the  _ Gen Super _ panel the next day.  Instead, she breathed in the smell of the hotel’s laundry detergent and let her eyes drift close.

It could have been seconds or hours later when the knock on the door came.  It pulled her out of a semi-doze and she rocketed off the bed in an instant.

She knew, even before she opened the door, what she’d find on the other side.

Bellamy Blake, wearing pajama pants and a ratty t-shirt, hair half-wet and messy, curls falling over his forehead, toothbrush in hand, and shy smile on his face.

“Hi,” he said, and she felt her stomach drop to the floor.

“Hi.”

“Can I come in?”

She was nodding before he’d even finished the sentence and stepped only slightly to the side.  His eyes dipped to the mere inches of space between her body and the wall before she mumbled something that might have been,  _ okay, princess _ , and squeezed through.

The smell of him hit her like a tidal wave and she let go of the door in favor of reaching for Bellamy instead.  She heard him grunt, maybe from the door hitting his foot, and made a note to apologize later.  But now, all she could focus on was how real and solid and  _ real _ he was under her hands as they trailed up over his shoulders and around to his back.  And then his arms were around her, crushing her to him and she was breathing in the scent of hotel shampoo, something citrusy and maybe with a hint of coconut, and he was exhaling a long breath into her neck.

“Fuck, I missed you so much,” he breathed into her skin and she nodded.

“Me, too.”

His arms tightened and she lifted herself up onto her tiptoes, bunching her hands in the back of his shirt.

“We barely even made it out of the hallway,” he whispered into her ear after a long moment of simply breathing each other in.

She laughed, a little breathless.  “Sorry.”

He shook his head and pulled back a little.  “Don’t be.  I--” He paused, scrubbed a hand through his hair.  Clarke resisted the urge to follow it with one of her own.   _ You have time _ , she told herself.   _ So much time _ .

“You what?”

“Can I stay here tonight?”

A wide grin broke across her face.  “Of course.”

Sometimes Clarke got so swept up in the  big picture that she forgot about the little things, the way it felt to brush your teeth next to someone in the bathroom, your eyes meeting for a just a moment in the mirror before the inevitable jockeying for who gets to spit first.  The way someone else’s shoes look in the entryway.  The way it felt to come out from washing off her makeup to find Bellamy, now only wearing boxers and that t-shirt, waiting for her on the edge of the bed.

And they’d done this before, shared a room, shared a bed, but somehow this felt monumental.  It felt important, life-changing, like the next in a series of promises they’d started before they even realized it.

“You want the left?” Bellamy asked, small smile playing around his lips as he scooted backwards up the bed.

Clarke’s cheeks flushed.  “You know the answer to that.”

His smile widened as he pulled the covers back for her.  She slid in and let out a sigh of relief as his arm came around her shoulders immediately.  She fluffed the pillow a little, and twisted to look up at him.  He brushed a strand of hair off her forehead.

“Hi,” she whispered.

Bellamy chuckled.  He shifted farther down the bed.  They were mere inches apart now, she could make out the boundaries of each of the freckles dusted across his nose, smell the peppermint of her toothpaste on his breath.  “Hi,” he whispered back.

“Are you nervous about tomorrow?”  
He shrugged.  “A little.  Maybe.”

“But?”

“But I know you’re going to be up there on that stage with me and that makes me feel like I can do anything.”

“You made me want to do something I’ve never been brave enough to do before,” she told him quietly.

He reached out and brushed a finger across her cheekbone.  “Hmmm?”

“You made me want to try.”

Bellamy bit his lip.  His hand slid into her hair, down to the back of her neck.  He leaned forward and pressed his lips to her forehead in a lingering kiss.  She felt as his eyes closed, his eyelashes fluttering against her hairline.  “You’re so brave, Clarke Griffin,” he whispered into her hair.  “And I’m so proud to know you.”

Clarke felt herself snuffle a little and shifted closer to him, hiding the tears she was failing to hold back in the collar of his shirt.  His arms came up around her as his chin came to a rest on top of her head.

“Thank you,” she told his collarbone, so quietly she worried he might not have heard it.

She felt him kiss her hair again.  “You have nothing to thank me for, Clarke.  Absolutely nothing.”

 

clarkegriffindaily:

_ “We’re not going to stand up on this stage and lie to you.  We’re not going to say that Finn Collins lied to you and that our relationship was 100% real from the start.  But that also doesn’t mean that everything Finn wrote in that article is the truth.  He told you his side of the story and now it’s our turn to tell you ours.  But before we do that, I’d like to extend a heartfelt thank you to the organizers of DragonCon who have been kind enough to a) let both Bellamy and I be here today in spite of the negative press surrounding the both of us right now, and b) for allowing us this chance to set the record straight. _

_ I met Bellamy Blake for the first time in 2007 on the set of a small indie feature called  _ Climbing the Mountain _.  It’s common knowledge that we didn’t get along then and we didn’t get along in the nine years between its release and when we were cast opposite each other in  _ Gen Super _.  I can’t really tell you  _ why _ we never got along, just that we didn’t.  Maybe the timing was wrong.  Maybe we just got off on the wrong foot and were both just too proud to admit that maybe we were wrong about each other.  Either way, when Marcus Kane announced via Twitter that Bellamy was going to be my co-lead, I was anything but happy about that news and anyone who was present for those first few weeks on set will tell you that we were still very much combative. _

_ But it’s hard to hate someone when you’re practically living on top of them and that’s what happens when you’re shooting a TV show.  I couldn’t tell you when it happened or how but it was like one day I blinked and suddenly he didn’t seem so bad anymore.  We weren’t friends, necessarily, but colleagues, associates, people who could stand in the same room as each other not in character and not want to kill each other.  And then, Marcus called us into his office and asked a favor of us--to pretend to date for no more than a year to bring extra publicity to the show and rehabilitate my public image, which as the tabloids love to mention at every possible opportunity, wasn’t exactly something to write home about at the time.  I want to make it very clear that Bellamy and I were not coerced into this.  It was not a stipulation in our contracts, it was never implied, directly or indirectly, that we would be fired if we said no.  But we didn’t.  We both said yes.  And we announced ourselves as a dating couple. _

_ Note, that our feelings for each other at this point were still very platonic.  I probably wouldn’t have even called Bellamy a friend.  But that didn’t mean we weren’t getting closer and, at some point over that year that we were pretending, Bellamy became the most important person in my life. _

_ So we’re going to say this once, and only once today.  Our relationship may have begun as a publicity stunt and may have been one for several months.  But it isn’t anymore.  Neither of us can tell you where we’re going to be tomorrow, if we’re going to be together for real one day or not, if we’re going to stay friends or not.  But I can tell you one thing -- I’m sitting up on this stage with my best friend today.  And he’s supported me through some of the hardest times of my life outside of my father’s passing and received little to no gratitude from me in return.  And if that doesn’t speak volumes to you about the nature of Bellamy Blake’s character then I don’t know what to tell you.” _

_ \-  _ Clarke Griffin addresses Finn Collins’ expose tell-all about her relationship with Bellamy Blake at 2017 DragonCon in Atlanta, GA.

#clarke griffin #bellarke #appearances

 

ravereyes added a new photo:

So incredibly proud of this kickass woman today @clarkegriff

bellamy_blake, harpermac, thebestblake, and 1,500,203 others like this

 

gabrena <3 @gabeayers

Okay, look I’m confused  
  


gabrena <3 @gabeayers

They can sit there and say they’re just friends all they want but we all saw the way they looked at each other  
  


gabrena <3 @gabeayers

There’s def something between C and B like I’m sorry but no one’s that good of an actor

 

The next few days were unexpectedly quiet.  Clarke followed Anya’s commands and stayed off the Internet, taking special care to avoid Twitter, and keeping updated on the media’s portrayal of the situation through a list of carefully curated articles courtesy of Raven.

She hadn’t seen Bellamy since Atlanta but they were texting furiously and it was one of the few things keeping Clarke sane besides the thought that in only a few days, they’d be headed back to Vancouver to resume filming.  At least then, even if things stayed crazy, she’d be able to fall back into an old routine, get out of her apartment occasionally, and wouldn’t have to worry about a particularly fervent TMZ intern following her into Ralph’s and accosting her in the produce department while she was trying to buy apples.

She was sure she’d be having nightmares about that one until she was at least fifty.  
  


> **OCTAVIA** : are you busy tonight?
> 
> **OCTAVIA:** say no you owe me drinks
> 
> **CLARKE:** Just tell me where
> 
> **OCTAVIA:** <3

 

Clarke was five minutes late to drinks with O, courtesy of her neighbor, who set a cookie sheet of pecans on fire in the oven, prompting the entire building to be evacuated.

Finally, after an hour of milling around outside in a circle guarded by bored looking firefighters, they’d all been allowed back inside and Clarke had grabbed her purse before making a run for outside, calling a Lyft as she went.

She didn’t recognize the street address but she knew LA well enough by now to know that it was in the middle of the NoHo Arts District.  Probably nice but not too nice, somewhere they wouldn’t get mugged but also not the type of establishment where they’d get photographed or recognized by anyone who cared.

Instead, the driver pulled up to a tacky looking tiki bar, complete with decorations that looked like they’d been sourced by the Enchanted Tiki Room and/or The Oriental Trading Company.  Clarke wrinkled her nose but got out and stepped inside anyway, handing the bouncer her ID.

He gave it a cursory glance then handed it back, face a blank wall of indifference.  She breathed a sigh of relief.

Inside was dark.  Clarke could make out the long line of a bar, lined with that fake palm material that dollar store hula skirts were made out of, separated from a wall of booths by a low half-wall.  Octavia was sitting in one of the booths, sipping at an obnoxiously blue drink from a straw.

“That looks horrifying,” Clarke said in lieu of a greeting as she slid into the seat across from her.

Octavia grinned at her.  “I got you a pina colada.”

“Does it come with enough food coloring to kill a horse?”

“Don’t be a party pooper, Clarke, it doesn’t suit you.”

Clarke snorted.  “What even is this place?”

“An underrated favorite.  Their Scorpion Bowls are incredible.”

“No,” she snapped.

“God, I  _ know _ , okay?  I’m not trying to get you drunk.”

“Could have fooled me.”

Octavia rolled her eyes. “Please.”

“What the hell are we doing here anyway?”

Octavia fixed her in a stare. “I figured you wouldn’t want to be recognized.  This place is out of the way and dark.  And quiet on weekdays.”

Clarke felt oddly touched.  “Thanks.”

A drink was slid onto the table as a waiter passed by.  Octavia pushed it in front of her.

“Now drink. You need to loosen up.”

Clarke took a sip.  Then another.  When she looked up, Octavia was grinning.  “Good, right?”

Clarke shrugged.  “Thanks,” she said again, knowing Octavia would understand what she meant.

_ Thank you for still being here with me, _ she meant.   _ Thank you for understanding that I never meant for any of this to happen.  Thank you for not telling your brother to forget about me.  Thank you for understanding, even when I couldn’t find the words to say it, that I’ll always love Bellamy more than I’ll ever love myself _ .

Octavia’s eyes were serious when she said, “I don’t want to harass you, Clarke, but I feel like you and I need to clear the air a little.”

Clarke took a longer, fortifying sip, relishing in the burn of the rum down her throat before she answered, “I figured this wasn’t a purely social outing.”

Octavia ran a finger around the rim of her glass, thinking over her next words.  “I wasn’t kind to you.  Before,” she said slowly. “And I’m sorry for that.”

Clarke opened her mouth to reply but Octavia held up a hand.

“Please, just let me finish first.”  Clarke’s jaw snapped back together.  “I was….blinded by how much I wanted to protect Bellamy, I think.  I know he’s more than capable of making his own choices but he’s always been biased when it comes to you.”  Octavia offered up a small smile that Clarke found herself unable to return.  “So I took it on myself to make sure that you didn’t hurt him.  And obviously it backfired.  Because you did.”

“Octavia--”

“ _ Clarke Griffin,  _ for God’s sake.   _ Shut up. _ ”

Clarke sank back against her seat.

“But looking back now, I see that you hurt yourself even more trying  _ not _ to hurt him.  And it makes me angry at myself that maybe if I’d supported the two of you a bit more last year we wouldn’t be sitting here right now.  And I’m sorry for that.”

Clarke chewed on her lip.  “Am I allowed to talk now or are you going to yell at me again?”

Octavia laughed.  “No, you can.”

“Thank you, I appreciate that.”

Octavia kicked her under the table and now it was Clarke’s turn to laugh.

“You might be right,” she said finally.  “Maybe Bellamy and I would be in a different place.  But I don’t think it matters much.”  She paused.  “You know, as crazy as it sounds I’m actually glad we went through all this bullshit.  The fake relationship, the Finn debacle, this media circus we’re all trudging through now.  I wish it wasn’t hurting everyone else--Marcus and Raven and the rest of the cast, because they don’t deserve it--but if there’s one thing that the last year has done, it’s made me look back on  _ me _ .  It’s made me reevaluate the way I see myself and what I think I deserve and it’s made me realize that I’ve been wrong all these years.”

Octavia tilted her head.

“I deserve  _ more _ than I’ve always told myself I did,” Clarke plowed on.  “I deserve whatever I want.  I deserve to be happy. I deserve someone who loves me.  I deserve a good life.  The shit that I’ve done in the past doesn’t define me and I have to stop thinking that just because I’ve fucked up every romantic relationship I’ve ever been in doesn’t mean that’s how it’s going to be forever.  I refuse to be a self-fulfilling prophecy.”

A smile spread across Octavia’s face.  Clarke felt her cheeks flush.

“You do deserve all that, Clarke,” O said softly.  “I’m glad you see that.”

“I don’t think I deserve Bellamy though,” Clarke said quietly.  “He’s been far too good to me.  Far better than I deserve.”

Octavia smiled.  “I don’t know about that.  I think Bellamy saw something in you all those years ago that made him think it was worth sticking around. And obviously, he was right.”

“What do you mean, all those years ago?”

Octavia chuckled.  “Let’s just say that Bellamy doesn’t like mysteries.  And you were the biggest one of them all.”

“That’s not vague at all.”

“Not my business to tell, Clarke, you’ll have to ask my brother about that one.”

Clarke rolled her eyes.  “Maybe I just will.”

Octavia settled back in her chair, a smile still playing around her lips.  “You know, for the longest time I thought you weren’t good for him.  I told him so.”

“Oh?  When was this?’

Octavia bit her lip.  “You remember that conversation we had in the bathroom?”  Clarke nodded.  “Around then.”

Right at the beginning then.

“You didn’t want to give me a chance?”

“Like I said, I’m protective.  And I knew your reputation.  Do the math.”

Clarke looked away.  “I’m not proud of that reputation.”

“I always liked  _ you _ , Clarke.  In fact, I always wished that you and Bell were actually friends because I’d have loved to hang out with you.  But I didn’t want you anywhere near my brother in a romantic capacity for a long time.  I thought he cared too much.  And when Bellamy cares too much he gets hurt.”

“So what changed?”

“I saw how much  _ you _ cared.  Honestly your near constant insistence that you couldn’t be a real couple, as much as it might have hurt the both of you, is what sold me.  And ever since I’ve been telling him to get his act together and make whatever the fuck was between you real.”

“He did.  Eventually.”

“From what he said it was you.”

Clarke shook her head.  “No, he’s the one who cornered me.  Also in a bathroom, ironic as that is.”

“Kinky,” Octavia deadpanned.

“Okay, now that’s enough about me,” Clarke said abruptly.  “Tell me about you.  How’s Lincoln?  How’s married life?”

A wide sunny smile spread across Clarke’s face and she felt an answering one creep over her own.  Octavia’s happiness was contagious and she also maybe was starting to feel the effects of the pina colada.

 

Clarke flew back to Vancouver three days later.  The rest of the cast, including Bellamy and Raven, weren’t due back for another handful of days but Clarke had rescheduled her flight to bring her back a few days earlier.  She’d been locked in her apartment for weeks now with only Paisley, who had slunk back into her old anti-social habits, for company.  Clarke had tried to see Bellamy but between Anya, Octavia, and TMZ it was essentially impossible.

The Internet’s speculation had died down a little, distracted by the newest Kardashian drama and a messy celebrity divorce.  The occasional article still surfaced and BuzzFeed certainly wasn’t doing anything to help their case, but the majority of people had moved on--either bored with the lack of new information or they hadn’t cared much in the first place.  Clarke couldn’t bring herself to care.  All that mattered was every day that passed was a day that brought her closer and closer to finally,  _ finally _ being able to be with Bellamy for real.

Even the thought of it gave her chills.

Plus, the vindictive part of her couldn’t wait to imagine the look on Finn’s face.

For some reason Clarke had an easier time blending in in Vancouver.  There were certain parts of LA she could frequent without worrying over every person with an iPhone but in Vancouver it was almost like before she was famous.  No one looked at her funny, no one chased her down the street yelling her name.  She got the occasional request for an autograph but that was rare and usually required another cast member of two for her to be noticed in the first place.

She dumped her bags in her foyer, took sheets out of the hallway closet, and briefly considered making the bed before falling back on it with a  _ whompf _ instead.  She’d missed this mattress, she decided, and the quiet noise of the city outside was a welcome relief after the bustling activity of the airport.  She closed her eyes, let herself sink into the mattress and felt her eyes slip shut.

The next day she slipped on a pair of sunglasses, one of Bellamy’s flannels that she’d refused to give back even through the whole Finn debacle, and forced herself to step outside her apartment.

Unlike in LA, she usually had no trouble wandering around Vancouver without being recognized.  There were always a handful of more devoted fans that stared as she walked past and an even smaller number that were brave enough to actually come up to her and ask for a picture, and it was always refreshing after the hustle and bustle of LA, when she could barely cross a parking lot without being mobbed, especially after TMZ took the exclusive rights to Finn’s “post-breakup expose.”

Being seen in public with another cast member was also just asking for trouble and Clarke still had nightmares about the time she, Raven, and Harper had gotten mobbed in the parking garage of the Beverly Hills Whole Foods by enough people that they’d literally been  _ crawling _ over the roof Raven’s car as they frantically tried to leave the lot.

She made her way to Granville Island, an old favorite, and let herself get lost in the push of the crowd headed for the indoor market.  She wandered past the stalls, taking in the smells of cooking food alongside chocolates and raw fish, and made her way upstairs.  The line for the pie stand was long, as it always was, but Clarke took out her phone and smiled at a new text from Bellamy.

 

> **BELLAMY:** O’s been on my couch for five hours and won’t leave please save me
> 
> **CLARKE:** What is she doing there
> 
> **BELLAMY:** she keeps going on about how I should track down Finn and shank him
> 
> **CLARKE:** Please don’t
> 
> **BELLAMY:** as if
> 
> **BELLAMY:** but I wouldn’t be lying if I didn’t say the concept isn’t appealing
> 
> **CLARKE:** …..Bellamy…..
> 
> **BELLAMY:** Fine, fine, I promise not to attack him
> 
> **BELLAMY:** and promise not to trawl the Grove looking for him
> 
> **CLARKE:** I told you that in confidence
> 
> **BELLAMY:** ;) See you soon, princess <3

 

The cashier called Clarke up and she handed over her credit card, accepting a piece of pie in exchange.

“Thank you,” she said, receiving a small nod in answer.

She grabbed a fork and took the plate outside, wading through the sea of pigeons to an empty table.  She sat down and immediately stabbed into her pie, closing her eyes at the explosion of flavor on her tongue.  Three of them had stumbled across the pie stand by accident halfway through filming season one.  Clarke remembered the day well, Raven holding onto her arm, stumbling a bit through the crowds, and laughing in her ear while Bellamy cut through the crowd and cleared a path to the stairs in search of a breath of fresh air.  They hadn’t found it, but they had found a window of lemon meringue pies with whipped white topping miles high.  Clarke had begged them to stop, and the thought of Bellamy’s answering indulgent grin still made her smile.

He phone dinged with another notification and she swiped it open.  
  


> **RAVEN:** delayed again
> 
> **CLARKE:** What the fuck happened this time
> 
> **RAVEN:** my idiot cousin is getting married
> 
> **RAVEN:** and for some reason i have to attend.  despite the fact that we haven’t spoken since i was a junior in high school
> 
> **CLARKE:** oh god
> 
> **RAVEN:** i’d rather die honestly
> 
> **CLARKE:** are you taking Gina?  
>  **RAVEN:** probably.  haven’t asked her yet
> 
> **CLARKE:** do your parents know?
> 
> **RAVEN:** about her?  not really, not that it matters they won’t give a shit
> 
> **CLARKE:** Hmmmm
> 
> **RAVEN:** anyway, just wanted to let you know since i’ll be late
> 
> **RAVEN:** i think Harper’s still flying up early though
> 
> **CLARKE:** I look forward to hanging out with her without you
> 
> **RAVEN:** don’t rub it in, bitch
> 
> **CLARKE:** love you
> 
> **RAVEN:** yeah yeah whatever

 

Clarke just smiled and tilted her head back into the sun fanning across her skin.  Sure, she wasn’t exactly where she’d been hoping she’d be by now.  She wasn’t publicly dating Bellamy (technically she wasn’t dating Bellamy at all), she was still battling insecurities on every front, and she knew that the next months and probably even years of her life, would be an uphill battle towards finally being the person she wanted to be, but the last month or so had proved nothing more than the fact that she wasn’t doing it alone.  And that, at least, was enough for now.

That night found her curled up on her couch with Indian takeout and Netflix playing a soap opera in the background.  She scrolled through Facebook, liking a picture of Raven and Gina at Raven’s cousin’s wedding, a handful of baby pictures and Octavia’s new profile pic -- an artfully framed shot and of her and Lincoln on the beach at their wedding, the sun setting over the water behind them, her dress blowing in a light wind.

She went to bed early, knowing that in only a few days she’d be back to greuling seventeen-hour days and night shoots.  They’d had to push off a couple weeks of shooting due to the Finn disaster to, in Kane’s words, “give the cast some time to adjust,” by which Clarke knew he’d meant allow her and Bellamy to sort their shit out without an audience and questions they didn’t want to have to answer.  She appreciated the sentiment but now it meant they were weeks behind where they should have been and quickly bearing down on deadlines.

Paisley followed her onto the bed and curled up in a ball on the corner of the comforter.  Her eyes were half-closed as she watched Clarke move around the room getting ready for bed.  Clarke ran a hand over her head and the cat purred, eyes closing the rest of the way.

She slid under the covers and settled back against the pillows, feeling the tension of the day seep out of her.  Returning to Vancouver after a period of being in LA was always a flurry of remembering the city, buying enough groceries to at least pretend she was capable of cooking full meals for herself, and trying to convince herself that no, that teenager with a smart phone wasn’t following her.  Usually she failed at the latter.

She dreamed that night that the afterparty of the People’s Choice Awards had gone differently.  That she’d never met Finn, that maybe she’d confessed her feelings to Bellamy earlier, taken that leap on the dancefloor and promised that they could try.  That in a different timeline maybe instead of warm ball of her cat under her feet, she instead had the warm line of Bellamy against her back, his arm snug around her waist, his nose in her hair.  And for the briefest of seconds, she felt that she did.

 

Gen Super Writers Room @GenSuperWritersRoom

Two days until our cast and crew is back on set! #throwbackthursday @clarkegriffs @raven_reyes @jazzyjordan

 

She was woken early the next morning by Paisley kneading claws into her face.  Clarke pushed the cat off and sat up, rubbing her eyes and peeking at the alarm clock on her table.  8am.  Too early to be awake but Paisley was mewling at her aggressively from the doorway so she didn’t have many options other than getting up.

She put a pot of water on the stove to boil to make oatmeal and made herself a cup of coffee before turning on the TV and clicking onto a news station.  The doorbell rang when she was halfway through her bowl of oatmeal and the grumbled, forcing herself off the couch and shuffling to the door.  Delivery men had a nasty habit of ringing the doorbell and waiting for her to open the door to like, personally hand her her packages or something.  She didn’t understand why they couldn’t just leave them on the doorstep and wait for her to just trip over them by accident when she tried to leave like they did in LA.

But the person waiting on the other side of the door was decidedly not a delivery person.

“Hey,” Bellamy said around a small smile.

Clarke blinked at him a bit stupidly.  “What are you doing here?” she managed.

His smile faded a bit.  “I missed you.”

Then it was like her brain finally caught up to the moment and she lunged forward, throwing her arms around him in a fierce hug that sent both of them stumbling back a step.  His arms came up around her shoulders and she found herself crushed into his chest, his nose in her hair just like she’d imagined the night before.

“I missed you, too,” she whispered into his shoulder.

“I know we’re trying to sort our individual shit out and ride out the PR nightmare before we do this for real but, Clarke, I don’t want to do any of this without you.”

Clarke pulled back and looked up at him.  Bellamy’s eyes were pleading and she felt the last bit of her resolve slip.

“Okay,” she said helplessly.  “Okay, we’ll do it together.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

His answering smile was enough to make Clarke wonder why she’d ever thought it was best to do this on their own.

Suddenly Bellamy looked down and his smile softened a little around the edges.  “Hey there,” he said to Paisley, who had wrapped herself around his ankles, “I missed you, too.”  Clarke tried to not to miss him when he let go of her to lean down and scratch the cat behind her ears.  Paisley rubbed her face into Bellamy’s shin and Clarke rolled her eyes.

“Ridiculous,” she muttered and Bellamy grinned up at her.

“You’re just jealous.”

“What, are you saying that if I paw at you enough you’ll scratch behind  _ my  _ ears?”

He winked.  “Only one way to find out.”

She barked out an unexpected laugh and he grinned wider.

He straightened up and slung an overnight bag she’d just noticed over his shoulder.  “Can I actually come in, by the way?”

“Shit,” she said, realizing that this entire exchange had technically happened in the open doorway to her apartment building.  Behind Bellamy an elderly woman shuffled past holding a basket of laundry.  “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.”

She stepped out of the way and he slipped past her, shrugging off the bag and toeing off his shoes.

“Do you…” She trailed off, licked her lips once.  “Do you maybe want to stay here for a couple of days?”

Bellamy’s grin was incandescent.  “I’d love nothing more.”

 

> **CLARKE:** Look who showed up this morning
> 
> **OCTAVIA:** #shook
> 
> **CLARKE:** Did you know he was coming and not tell me????
> 
> **OCTAVIA:** we’ve watched enough rom coms together, clarkey, you know how i love an unexpected emotional reunion
> 
> **CLARKE** : Unbelievable
> 
> **OCTAVIA:** if it makes you feel better Raven knew, too
> 
> **CLARKE:** It doesn’t, but thanks for trying
> 
> **OCTAVIA:** love ya, clarke
> 
> **CLARKE:** you, too, O  
> 

 

Later that evening found Bellamy and Clarke lying on Clarke’s bed, her head pillowed on his chest, his fingers carding through her hair.

“Thank you for coming,” she said.

He just hummed in response.

“And for being willing to do any of this.”

His fingers stilled in her hair.  “Clarke,” he said quietly.

She tilted her head back.  He was staring at her intently.

“You know this isn’t, like, a hardship for me right?”

She shrugged.

“ _ Clarke _ .”

“I dragged you into a media nightmare.  I’m sure paparazzi are stalking you, they’re probably stalking Octavia.  Your Twitter feed has got to be a mess, I can only  _ imagine  _ what people are sa--”

He cut her off.  “Clarke, stop.  Don’t do that to yourself.”

“Do what to myself?”

“Convince yourself that I’m some hapless victim in this situation.  We both made choices, Clarke.  Do I regret some of them?  Sure.  But regret is part of being human.”

Clarke bit her lip.

“Do you know what I don’t regret?”  He studied her face.  “You.  I don’t regret a single fucking thing about you.”

Clarke swallowed back the tears building in the back of her throat.

“You’re too good to me.”

He laughed.  “You’re not giving yourself enough credit.”  He paused, clearly thinking over his next words.  “Do you know how many of my ex-partners were willing to watch hours of History channel documentaries with me?  How many put up with my idiosyncrasies without batting an eyelash?  You’ve made sacrifices for me, too, don’t pretend you haven’t.”

“You’re worth it, though,” she whispered.

“See, that’s exactly how I feel about  _ you _ .”

“I guess I’m just so used to no one wanting to fight for me that I can’t imagine why anyone would.”

“And I promised myself months ago that I’m going to spend as long as you’ll let me convincing you why that’s exactly what you deserve.”

 

Clarkegriff added a new photo:

I spent most of my life listening to people telling me what I couldn’t do.  First it was my parents, who said I couldn’t possibly be into girls as well as boys. Then, it was my teachers, who told me that I couldn’t be an actor, that I’d never make it, and I should pick something practical to do with my life instead. Then, it was my first agents, who told me I didn’t have the talent to make it in this industry and I should take the small-bit terrible roles that I was offered.  Then it was my first real girlfriend, who convinced me that I didn’t deserve a healthy loving relationship and forced me into the pattern of settling that would plague me for most of my adult life.  I spent so long thinking “I don’t deserve that” that I never allowed myself to take a step back and ask why.  But now, looking back on the last twenty years of my life, I’m done letting other people dictate my life.  I’m taking the back the reigns of my own destiny, starting tomorrow when I go back to work with some of my favorite people to make a show that I wish had been on the air when I was fifteen because maybe then I wouldn’t have to be writing this message today.  I never thought I’d be that girl writing self-affirming messages to myself on Instagram but then, there are a lot of things I never thought I’d be doing.  Still, don’t expect me to start a yoga blog or only eating quinoa but you can expect me to finally start making my own way and to start living for myself.  Today I’m turning the last page of a chapter in my life that I hope to never repeat and am putting the pen to paper for a new one.  And I honestly cannot wait to see what the future holds.

ravereyes, thebestblake, natemiller, bellamy_blake, and 1,805,451 others like this

 

The craze of filming had always been Clarke’s normal, and one that she clung too all the more fervently when the  _ Gen Super  _ set first started up again.  The crazy hours they were working to meet production deadlines and increasingly difficult scenes and stunts they were expected to nail to ramp up to the end of the season meant she was mostly ignorant to the whisperings of the crew and strained vibes between her, Bellamy, Raven, and the rest of the cast.

Bellamy was a resolute presence by her side.  She’d always envied his ability to ignore what others, whether they be Internet trolls, or his own co-stars, said about him but now she leaned heavily on his strength.  They’d decided the day after Bellamy showed up on her doorstep that, despite their renewed promises to each other that they were going to make things work, it wasn’t yet time for them to re-announce a romantic relationship.  So instead they presented themselves as friends and only behind closed doors did Clarke allow herself to let her guard down.

 

New York Comic Con @NY_Comic_Con

Don’t miss Clarke Griffin and Bellamy Blake of @GenSuperCW -- tomorrow @ #NYCC!

 

Clarke Griffin @cgriffs

@bellamy_blake and I will be signing autographs after tomorrow’s panel!  Come say hi and stay to make fun of his horrible handwriting!

 

Two weeks after filming started, Clarke and Bellamy flew to New York for their last con appearance before the premiere of season two.  They were slated to be on two panels and had a set of signings to boot, making for a packed weekend.  Clarke was dreading it from the second she left her apartment for the airport, but she knew that these public appearances were increasingly important in the wake of Finn’s expose and her and Bellamy’s radio silence about the state of their relationship since the article’s publishing.

Their agents had talked the convention into springing for first class tickets and Clarke sank into her seat in relief.  Her general hatred for airports had only increased now that they were followed through the terminal by hordes of fangirls with their phones out and murmured whispers.

The plane pushed off from the gate on time and they were soon lifting off into the sunset sky over the Pacific, bound for JFK.  Clarke slumped down in her seat and leaned her head against Bellamy’s shoulder, watching as the plane burst through the clouds.  As her eyes drifted shut she left his hand slide onto her knee and squeeze as he brushed a kiss over her forehead.  She snuggled in closer to his neck and let herself drift off to sleep.

She jolted awake when the wheels hit the tarmac, falling forward on her seat.  She was pulled back by an arm around her shoulder, Bellamy’s familiar touch digging into her bicep.

Clarke straightened and rubbed her eyes.

“You ready to face the mad house?” Bellamy asked as the seatbelt light  _ dinged  _ off and the captain came over the intercom to welcome them to New York City.

Clarke groaned.  “And to think that once I liked cons.”

He chucked her shoulder.  “Oh, come on, you still do.”

“Maybe once all this shit if over I’ll like them again,” she continued.

“Hey, not everything is terrible.  Didn’t Anya give you permission to hold my hand in public last week?”

“Yes, but she also said I’m not supposed to call attention to our relationship and you know as well as I do that if we so much as look at each other for five seconds too long the entire Internet will be theorizing that we’re getting married at the EZ-Chapel around the corner.”

Bellamy rolled his eyes.  “Don’t be a drama queen, Clarke.”

“It’s my natural state, Bellamy, you should know this by now.”

He grinned and, taking advantage of the flurry of activity as everyone reached for their overhead bin, threw an arm around her shoulder, squeezing her into his side for a brief moment.  He used the opportunity to press a careful kiss into her hair and a small fragment of the anxiety Clarke was feeling about the weekend dissipated.

The streets were packed, despite the late hour, and Clarke watched as people in cosplay mingled with bar hoppers and average citizens taking a late night stroll to the corner bodega for a new pack of cigarettes.  The cab drive to their hotel was fairly short and they rolled their suitcases into the plush lobby, watching as a parade of late-night club-goers wandered past in nine-inch heels and skin tight dresses.

The hotel reservation was under Bellamy’s stage name from his past non union days and Clarke loitered next to the desk, hoping everyone walking past was either already too drunk or too indifferent to notice her.  Save for a too-long-for-comfort look from the concierge, they escaped into the elevator and Bellamy pushed the button for the twenty-ninth floor.  Clarke fell backwards into the wall of the elevator, suddenly exhausted, as it rushed upwards.  She turned to face Bellamy and found him already watching her in the mirrored doors.  He offered her a small smile that she returned.

“Tomorrow?” he asked.

She felt calm settle in the pit of her stomach as she reached for his hand.  She squeezed it, and replied, “tomorrow.”

 

bellamy_blake added a new photo:

When you’re an actor, you spend a lot of your time telling other people’s stories.  And, as a result, you don’t get a lot of time to tell your own.  But tonight, I’m going to try to do just that.  From the bottom of my heart, I want to give a heartfelt thank you to all of the fans who have supported me over the years.  You’re the reason I get to go to set everyday and do what I love most in this world.  And you’re also the reason why I’m going against everything my agent and my publisher told me to do as I write this post.  Because you all deserve the truth.  And it’s not that we haven’t given you the truth; it’s just that we haven’t given you all of it. So here’s the truth.  The truest truth I’ve ever spoken.  I’m head over heels, crazy, teenager in love with my fantastic, brilliant co-star and last night, as we stared out at the New York skyline from our hotel room, she gave me permission to make this extremely public announcement.  I can’t tell you when it happened.  There were no fireworks, there was no axis-shifting moment when everything became clear.  There was just one day when I looked at her and I realized I didn’t want to think about a future that didn’t have her in it.  Clarke, I know you’re reading this over my shoulder right now as much as you’re going to protest later that you’re not.  And I know you’re going to read it again later when you think I’m not looking (I would do the same in your shoes).  So I’m going to put this in words as plain as I know how: it hasn’t been easy and I know it’s not going to be.  But if my options are easy or you, I would choose you every goddamn time.  I love you.  And I’m so fucking happy that I finally get to tell the world how happy I am to be yours.

thebestblake, clarkegriff, ginamartin, and 2,507,394 others liked this.

 

The sound of her phone vibrating against the nightstand woke her.  Clarke blearily reached out, freeing her arm from Bellamy’s grip.  He nudged his face into the gap between her shoulder and her neck, snuffling softly and she felt an unbidden smile stretch across her face.  It was almost too hot under the covers with him pressed right against her back but the feeling was grounding and real.  His hand shifted across her stomach, riding the fabric of her sleep shirt up just slightly and Clarke felt the touch of his pinky against the bare skin of her hip like an electric shock.

How she could have ever could have convinced herself that she wasn’t terribly in love with this man was beyond her in moments like this, when she felt so tangled up in  _ them _ that she hardly even knew where one of them ended and the other began.

24 hours earlier, the text flashing on her phone screen would have broken through her bubble.  But now, with Bellamy’s arms around her and a growing list of instagram likes and congratulatory texts from their friends and co-stars,

 

> **ANYA:** What the fuck, Clarke, didn’t I tell you not to do anything dumb?
> 
> **CLARKE:** I didn’t
> 
> **ANYA:** That instagram post?  
>    
>  **CLARKE:** I’m happy Anya.  And I’m so fucking tired of showing it

 

There was a long pause before Anya’s next text.

 

> **ANYA:** You owe me like a hundred dollars in the swear jar
> 
> **ANYA:** Make that three hundred
> 
> **CLARKE:** Bullshit
> 
> **ANYA:** Three fifty
> 
> **CLARKE:** We’re going to fight about this tomorrow.  I’m too tired now
> 
> **ANYA:** I’m proud of you Clarke
> 
> **ANYA:** Go get your man

 

Clarke smiled as she typed out her next response.

 

> **CLARKE:** I already got him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always you can find me on tumblr at [rebelprincebell](http://rebelprincebell.tumblr.com). And feel free to drop me a comment below if you liked the chapter.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right, folks! Here it is! The end! This took a while because I needed it to be right and I was struggling with it. Until today, that is, when I literally wrote this entire thing in two hours.
> 
> I hope this finale wraps up this verse neatly for you. And that it gives you everything you were hoping for and maybe more. I hope that, at the very least, you enjoy it.
> 
> Thank you so much to every single one of you who has taken the time to read this fic. It's crazy to think that I started this crazy ride a year and a half ago and that some of you are still here. Thank you. Your support has meant to much to me, and is a major reason why, even when I didn't think I could do, it I wrote that next chapter and the one after that.
> 
> There are ideas rattling around in my brain for more stories for Bellamy and Clarke. If I'm ever able to get my shit together and write any of them, I hope to see you again.
> 
> But more than anything, thanks for sharing this crazy journey with me. It's been an absolute pleasure.

“We have this narrative about love.  That there’s one special, amazing person out there for you.  And that you’re going to spend all this time looking for them.  I remember when I was in the eighth grade, I came home from school one day and told my mom about my first crush.  I don’t even remember her name -- but I remember that her had looked red in the sun, and she had all these freckles on her nose, and she always smelled like peaches.  And I was so enamored in that way that we all are when we have that first crush, that first touch of ‘holy shit, this person is special.’ And I realize I probably shouldn’t be swearing right now but everyone always tells you that these things are supposed to be real and honest to God, I’ve never been able to censor myself all that well.  Anyway, I come home from school, and I’m telling my mom about this girl and she smiled at me and said, ‘maybe she could be the One.’  And at that age I didn’t even really know what that meant.  The _One_.  With a capital ‘o.’  As I got older the pieces started to fall into place -- the person who completes you, who gives you a reason to get up every morning, to _exist_ , almost.  And I spent most of my teenage years looking for that person and never finding them.  It shouldn’t be a shock to anyone here that I almost did this once before but there was always something holding me back from making it this far, to standing up here and saying these words to her.  And I think it’s because I still believed in that fantasy.  The fantasy of the One with a capital ‘o.’

“I’ve spent most of my career being in love for other people’s benefit.  Playing at loving my costars, calculating the perfect amount of eye contact, how I should touch them, how this will look to an audience.  So much so that at some point...I found myself doing that with my real-life partners as well.  Until you.  You were the exception to every single one of my rules.  You forced me to reconsider what my mother said to me that day in the eighth grade.  Because surely if there’s one perfect person for you, that means it should be easy.  But you were the opposite of that and I was in the middle of falling for you before I even realized I’d begun.  Over these last incredible seven years you’ve taught me that the narrative we’re all looking for is fake.  There is no _the One_.  The One is total and complete bullshit.  Relationships aren’t easy, they’re hard.  They’re having bad days and worse days and days where you wonder why you’re doing this at all.  But they’re also days where I wake up next to you, and the sun’s coming through that window just right in the way you claim to hate, and you look so beautiful I can’t breathe for a minute.  It’s days where you make me laugh and you make me cry and you make me so happy I can’t even find the words to express how I feel.  It’s standing up here with you, knowing that I’m going to get to wake up to you every day for the rest of my life.  And that’s better than some intangible perfect person.  You’re better.”

 

**_Two years earlier -_ **

Clarke had always loved the way Bellamy’s arms felt around her.  The way they seemed to envelope her, to create their own small world, the way she always felt safe.  Now, with her arms looped under his to grasp his shoulders, her face turned into his neck as they swayed across the dance floor, she felt a small tear prick at the corner of her eye.

“You okay?” he asked quietly, breath stirring the loose tendrils of hair at her ear.

She nodded into his neck. “Yeah,” her voice was shaky.

He drew her head away from his neck and those eyes she loved so much were concerned as he studied hers.  “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.  It just...hit me how happy I am right now.”

Bellamy laughed.  “Are you serious?”

“What?”

“And that made you cry.  At your best friend’s fucking wedding.”

She hit his shoulder, feeling a grin tug at her lips.  “Shut up.”

“You’re a sap, Clarke Griffin,” he whispered into her ear.

She tugged him closer, hiding her smile in his shoulder, tracing the line his shoulders cut in his suit jacket.

“I like this jacket on you,” she said after a pause.

He squeezed her sides.  “Don’t change the subject.”

Her smile widened.

“I’m really happy, too,” he said, and even amid the crowded dance floor, as Gina and Raven, both resplendent in white went careening past them, laughing and maybe a little too drunk, it felt like the most secret and private of confessions.

“Good,” she whispered back.

 

**_“It’s been a year since you two fully disclosed the truth behind your relationship.  How are things between you now?”_ **

_CLARKE: “Good.  They’re really really good.”_

_BELLAMY: “I’m the happiest I think I’ve ever been.  Clarke is an amazing, amazing woman and I honestly feel so blessed every day to be with her._

**_“And_ ** **Gen Super** **_was just picked up for a fourth season.  That’s got to be exciting.”_ **

_BELLAMY: “It is.  I love going to work on that show.  It was one of my first experiences really building a family with a cast.  You know, we’ve been working together for three, almost four years now?  Something crazy like that.  I honestly just feel blessed to go to work with them every day and make this incredible show.”_

_CLARKE: “I still remember this day last year.  It was just after the season three pickup announcement and I was in the grocery store with Harper [McIntyre] in the produce section of Ralph’s in Studio City of all places and this girl, probably no more than fifteen, sixteen, comes up to me and in this really timid voice asked if I was Clarke Griffin.  And I sad, yes, that’s me, and she told me she’d just finished bingeing the first two seasons of_ Gen Super _on Netflix and Lena, and my portrayal of Lena, had inspired her to come out to her mom.  And I honest to God almost started crying next to the pears.  Because I’d had this real-life impact on this girl’s life and that is why I’m so proud of this show and everyone who works on it._

 _(“Looking Back on Three Years of_ Gen Super _with Bellamy Blake and Clarke Griffin._ BuzzFeed. Web.”)

 

“I still remember the day that I first talked to Clarke about _Gen Super_ ,” Raven said, staring out at the room, hands on the table, wedding ring glinting in the candlelight.  “We went to lunch.  Clarke maintains that it was her idea but I’m still fairly sure Anya talked her into it.  Neither of us knew what this show would become to either of us, what it would grow into.  I’m fairly sure that at that point I thought it would be a one, two, maybe three season deal.  Have a hardcore following of teenagers on Tumblr.  Maybe TMZ would follow us around LA a bit.  Then it’d be over and we’d all call it a day and move on with our lives.  Hang out sometimes, maybe talk about a cast reunion that would never happen.  Instead, we got six seasons and I gained a family, a wife--” she looked over at Gina, next to Bellamy “--and to stand here in front of all of you today, raising a glass to my best friend in the whole fucking world who has deserved this happy ending more than anyone I know.  Clarkey, I’m so fucking proud of you.  Here’s to all of your dreams coming true.”

 

**_Four years earlier -_ **

There were moments contentment just hit her.  Moments like this, on her couch with a script in her lap, toes buried under Bellamy’s thigh, Paisley curled up in his lap, her head back against the back of the couch, mouth slightly open, maybe snoring a little.  Clarke felt a small smile tug at the corners of her lips as a warm feeling she’d never known before Bellamy bloomed in her chest.  Carefully, she put the script down on the coffee table and sat up, reaching out to stroke the strands of hair behind his ear.  His hair was getting long, he’d have to get it cut soon in preparation to go back to Vancouver to start shooting.

His eyes opened slowly, in that lazy way she loved so much, like he was taking his time acclimating back to the real world.

“Hey.” His voice was scratchy and it made butterflies erupt in her stomach.

“Hey,” she said back, softly.

His head tilted towards her, trapping her hand between the side of his head and the couch cushions.  She threaded her fingers through his hair and tugged.

“You need a haircut,” she said.

“I thought you liked it long.” He shifted just a bit so he could bring his right hand up around her wrist, stroking her pulse point, warm fingers a contrast to the cold metal of the bracelet around her wrist.

“I do,” she agreed.  “But Marcus doesn’t.”

He laughed lowly and she smiled.

His fingers tangled around the chain hanging from the bracelet, traced across the engraving there.

“Sometimes….” he began before trailing off.

“Hmm?” she prompted when he didn’t say anything else.

“Sometimes I just wish we could stay like this.  Be normal people.”

She tilted her head.  “Why?”

“Don’t you think it would be simpler?”

She scratched at his scalp lightly, thinking it over.  “Maybe.”

“But?”

“How do you know there was a but?”

“Because I know you.  Come on, what’s the but?”

She sighed.  “But if we were just normal people, I don’t know if we ever would have made it here.”

“That’s a crazy thought, isn’t it?” His hand slid down her forearm, warm palm coming to a rest over her elbow.  “That there’s maybe another version of us out there where we didn’t end up together?  Maybe where I married Gina and you stayed with Finn or maybe even Lexa.  Maybe there’s a world where we never even met.”

“You getting philosophical on me?”

He chuckled.  “I’m just glad we ended up in this one.”

“Me, too,” she said softly.  “I love you.”

It wasn’t the first time she’d said it, or the second, or even the hundreth.  It had been _years_ by now of spoken and unspoken “I love you’s.”  Of leaving the extra coffee in the pot because they knew the other person needed it that morning, of “I picked up this shampoo at the store for you because I noticed you were out,” of the small things that screamed, “I know you, I know this life we’ve built together, and I’m committed to it and to you.”

“I love you,” he said back, matter of fact and simple, finger once against tracing over the heart on her bracelet.

“You should move in here,” she said in a rush after a long pause.

Bellamy’s finger paused.  “I’m sorry?”

“Move in.  With me.”

“I thought we agreed that I was going to resign my lease.”

“Don’t.”

He studied her face.

“Only if you want to,” she said, bracing herself for defeat.

His hand left her arm and came up to cup her cheek.  She turned into the touch and closed her eyes as his finger traced the shape of her upper lip.  “Okay.”

“Okay?” she repeated.

He nodded, wide grin breaking out across his face.  “Yeah.  Let’s move in together.”

“Okay,” she said, words barely finding their way past her widening smile.

He lunged forward to kiss her, their lips barely catching in giddy excitement, and Clarke felt like a teenager again.  But there was nothing young or inexperienced about the way she knew just how to fit her hands to Bellamy’s hair, about how he knew just where to put his hands on her waist, or how they fit together.  This was a practiced dance they had, carefully curated and perfected over _years_ and Clarke still felt a thrill go through her when she thought about that.  That she’d had this for _years_ and he still wanted her, still made her feel like a giddy teenager getting her first kiss on her front porch as her parents watched from the living room window.

They broke apart, foreheads resting together, breathing the same air, and Clarke thought that maybe, just maybe, she understood what Bellamy had meant when he’d said he wished they could stay just like this.  And maybe, just maybe, she wished for the same.

 

“It took me a really long time to think about what I wanted to say today.  In a way, I think I’ve been writing these words for seven years.  But in pieces, a fragment here, a few words there, maybe a sentence here.  It’s not easy to put feelings this big into words, not easy to condense them down into something that will make sense.  And you’ve always been better at words than I have, which is now clear to literally everyone here.  So I’m going to settle for something simple, because otherwise we could be up here all day.  I don’t remember the exact moment when I started thinking that I was wrong about you.  But I do remember how scary that was.  You scared me because it was so easy to lose track of everything I thought I knew around you.  But the more time we spent together the more I realized that things made _more_ sense around you.  You give me clarity.  You give me courage.  You give me strength.  You make me a better version of me.  I know that usually people stand up here and make promises but that’s not what I came here to do.  I didn’t come here to promise to love you, to cherish you, to support you.  I don’t need to promise that because you already know that I do, and I do, and I will.  Instead, I want to tell you how proud of us I am, that after everything that was thrown in our way, we still managed to make it here, side-by-side, and proved the world that not everything has to be a picture perfect, tied up with a bow love story.  Real life is messy and it’s hard and it’s scary but it’s so _fucking_ worth it.  I never gave much thought to what my perfect person, my the One, looked like, probably because by the time everyone else was, I’d managed to convince myself that I didn’t deserve it.  But today I’m so glad I didn’t.  Because I’m fairly sure you, who always puts your socks in the laundry inside out, and leaves water on the kitchen counter, and who my cat loves more than me, wasn’t it.  But that’s okay because you’re right.  You’re better.”

 

**_Last night -_ **

Bellamy’s fingers were light, reverential almost, as they traced her jawline.  It was dark, dappled moonlight coming in through the curtains, his eyes a shadow in his face.  But she didn’t need to see them to describe their exact shade of brown, could have mapped his freckles with her eyes closed, divided them into quadrants and pointed them out as if she’d drawn them herself, dotted them on his tanned skin, darker now in the middle of July.  He curled a lock of hair around his finger, drawing it out slowly, and rewinding it, over and over.

“Do you think they were right?” she asked, voice quiet yet still seeming too loud in the silence of the room.

“Right about what?” he asked, finger pulling completely out of her hair and moving instead to trace over her eyebrow, the soft skin right above her eyelid.

“That we should have spent tonight apart.”

“No,” she said, sounding sure of himself.  “That’s a bullshit tradition, princess, and you know it.”

“We never were particularly good at following traditions either,” she mused.

He huffed a laugh, warm breath, smelling like the mint toothpaste they shared, wafting across her face.  “No.  That we weren’t.”

“I still feel like I’m dreaming.”

He hummed.  “I don’t think I’m imaginative enough to have dreamt you.”

“Sap,” she muttered, but there was no malice in her words.

They lapsed into a long silence before he said, “I want to say something.  Before we go out in front of all those people tomorrow.  Something for just us.”

She slid her left hand into space between them, palm up, and smiled at how quickly and easily he fit his fingers between hers.

“Yeah?”

“When I asked you I knew this would be a big thing.” He paused.  Then added, “Obviously.”

She chuckled.  “Obviously.”

He shoved her shoulder lightly.  “Could you just let me talk without interrupting me?  For once?”

She smiled and reached up to catch his hand.  “Yes, I’m terribly sorry, please continue.”

He rolled his eyes and she felt another bloom of love reach up into her throat, making it hard to swallow.

“I knew this was big.  But I don’t think I realized how it would feel.  How all-encompassing it would be to lie here with you, thinking about tomorrow, and how beautiful you’re going to look, and the fact that after tomorrow I get to call you mine forever.”

Clarke didn’t even realize she’d started crying until he reached out with a shaking finger to wipe at her cheek.

“I didn’t mean to make you cry,” he said softly.

Her laugh was choked.  “I just don’t get how you come up with this shit.  Next to you, I feel like a caveman discovering words for the first time.”

His fingers traced down her cheek.  “You have your own way with words,” he said after a moment.  “They’re simple but they’re thoughtful.  And somehow the fact that they don’t come as easily to you makes them mean so much more.”

“It’s a good thing Raven talked me into that waterproof mascara. I’m going to bawl my eyes out tomorrow.”

His hand slid down to her shoulder, toyed with the strap of her tank top.  “Don’t worry, I’m going to, too.”

“You promise?”

He laughed.  “Yeah.”  He reached for her left hand again, fingers tracing across the slim band around her fourth finger.  “I’m marrying the love of my life.  How could I not?”

 

**_Now -_ **

They’d been here before.  Her in a dress, him in a suit.  Wrapped around each other in the middle of a crowded dance floor, surrounded by their friends and their family, and sometimes even complete strangers.  Surrounded by people who knew their names, people who thought they knew their lives, people who didn’t know anything about them at all and didn’t care to.

There were things that were familiar--the way that Bellamy’s hair, long again, curled around the collar of his shirt.  The way that his bowtie was a bit uncentered from how much he’d been tugging at it.  The way that his hands fit around Clarke’s waist, the way he smelled, the way they knew how to move together so seamlessly.

But there also had never been a moment like this.  There had never been a moment where Clarke had been wearing white.  There had never been a moment where they’d been dancing to a song that they picked out together, after hours of arguing over genres and was this cliche and ‘no, Bellamy, absolutely not.’  There had never been a moment where Clarke could feel cold metal pressing into her spine when Bellamy moved his left hand just so, a moment where the flowers on the tables perfectly matched the ones she’d carried down the aisle.

The music swelled and Clarke tightened her arms around Bellamy’s neck as she turned her face into his shoulder, breathing in the familiar scent of him, faint but there under the smell of his freshly laundered shirt, and the cologne he’d brushed on the morning in the bathroom, grinning at her as she’d left for her hair appointment.  There was the familiar feeling of his shoulders moving under her hands, the familiar curl in the one piece of hair at the back of his neck that wasn’t quite like the the rest.  Here, with his cheek pressed to hers, one hand on her back, the other tight around her waist, dancing together at their wedding reception, Clarke couldn’t believe there had ever been a time that she didn’t realize how much this man would mean to her.

She pulled back slowly, tilting her head into his until their foreheads met.  Bellamy’s eyes met hers and in them she saw a future.  The show that had brought them together was over, that chapter of their lives closed.  Once upon a time she might have been sad about it ending, mourned the loss of something so profound and life-changing.  But here, staring into the eyes of the man she was lucky enough to call her husband, all she could see was the countless unwritten chapters still ahead of them, all those blank pages they had yet to fill.

She let her eyes drift closed and smiled.

“What?” Bellamy asked, so quiet she barely heard him.

“I didn’t know it was possible to feel this much all at once,” she whispered back.

She didn’t have to open her eyes to know that he was smiling now, too.  “Me neither.”

“Thank you,” she said.

“For what?”

She kissed him.  And as their friends and family around them cheered, and the closing chords of the song they’d picked out together faded, and other couples joined them on the dance floor, and their future stretched out in front of them, Clarke knew that Bellamy had known her answer before he’d even asked.

 _For everything_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find me, as always, on [on Tumblr](http://rebelprincebell.tumblr.com)


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